In destroying him, I've met my fall
by Ephirel
Summary: Post-war Hogwarts. Voldemort had been defeated, but at what cost? Why is it that Harry must be the one to defeat him? Who... or What is he? Mentions of the four founders, esp. Godric and Salazar in the story. HPSS... but not necessarily slash.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: All of Harry Potter belongs to Ms. J K Rowling. I am but borrowing the plot, using it to create another story.

Dedicated to Silvan and Rod. Happy Easter, dad, mom.

**In destroying him, I've met my fall**

Prologue

* * *

_Dear Cedric, _

_I'm sorry not to have confided in you earlier. It sounds silly, doesn't it? That I have no one here in whom I can trust not to betray the words I've said. You had been my only confidante, one that would listen and understand. Had I told Hermione… or Ron about what plagued me, they would have referred me to Dumbledore immediately, worrying over me like some over-protective mother hen. _

_Last year had been hell for me without you by my side. I've forgotten that I've left you here, warded so heavily that I couldn't even Accio you back to my side… that stupid git just had to pull me back to Hogwarts before I could even get anything of mine own… all because of the warning that Voldemort might come to attack me before the summer break is over. All of my other things had been sent only the day after I've reached Hogwarts, and I couldn't possibly tell them that you were under the loose floorboard under the bed. _

_Blabbering aside, I've finally sought revenge, Cedric. For my parents, for you, for your father… and for all the others who had died in his hands. The nightmare is finally over. _

_He's dead. _

_Interesting how things - unexpected as it seems - work out in such a morbid fashion. One would pride on our ability to wield wands, and how magic performed through them held such deep effects on a human's body that a mere two words could kill. No one actually thought to discuss how this could happen… well, it is not as if I would even try fathoming it. I am most thankful that I'm immune to that curse, and some things are still best left untouched. _

_And to think that Voldemort was also immune to Avada Kedavra… he and I really are so similar to one another that it's becoming creepy. But then again, he died under Salazar Slytherin's dagger. _

_...How ironic. _

_When that dagger appeared in my hand, the serpent in the blade had spoken. It hadn't been in Parseltongue, but in human speech. A voice… no,_ two _voices had resounded continuously in my head. _'Kill him, Harry'_, they had said, the deep baritone and light tenor melding into one voice. One that had sounded so… _right_. I can't explain it well, but the light tenor voice had guided me to Voldemort's weaknesses. Funny as it sounds, they… both of them knew when and where Voldemort would attack, and warned me continuously… Well, the deep baritone warned me of the attacks while the tenor voice brought me closer to the bastard's side. It was as simple as that. _

_The Death Eaters who wanted to attack had been held back by some forces unknown to any one of us, and no one hex could go pass through the mysterious, shimmering shields. They couldn't apparate or run away either. Something kept them from doing it too. Dumbledore's forces arrived very soon, leaving only Voldemort and me in the last battle. _

_Oh yes, I was already heavily injured by then. I hadn't been able to dodge all of his attacks, and most of those that I _did_ sustain drew quite some blood. Still, adrenaline pumped in, and despite the chaotic scenes, all I could see, and hear, were Voldemort and the two voices. _

_Then, Voldemort sent me a strong stunning spell that had me fallen to my knees. My back hurt so badly that I just wanted to lie down and die, but it wasn't over yet. _

_I was delivered the killing curse. _

_Strangely, I never died. Neither did Voldemort - the curse wasn't rebounded this time. The green light just went into my body, tearing me body from inside out… but never making me die. _

_It was at this time when the voices sounded once more, telling me to kill him while he stood, stunned my not dying… _again_. Somehow, my body acted against my will, kicking his wand out of hand before he could do anything, and my left hand, the one that held the dagger, flicked in an eerie manner, causing the dagger to embed itself in Voldemort's chest, much to the surprise of both me, and Voldemort. _

_Then, as if possessed, I walked over to Voldemort, hissing in the same tenor voice that had sounded in my head… in Parseltongue. These were the words that had been said. _

_"You were never my heir Riddle. My child had been brought here, forcibly taken away from me, to bring about your fall." _

_Voldemort's scarlet eyes had widened so large, his look of fear so evident, that I almost laughed. And laughed I did, a cold one that wasn't mine, for the _other_ voice… the baritone one, had taken over mine. _

_"Shocking eh, Riddle? Your spell had brought my child's soul here, into this dimension." _

_The man's voice had then turned very, very cold. _

_"Sal and I lived in grief for the next few months while Rowena and Helga worked tirelessly to find out how our daughter just dissolved into nothingness before our very eyes. It had only been short of six months later when they found out the cause." _

_My hairs had stood on their ends when finally the tenor voice took over in Parseltongue once more. _

_"You had been the reason why I hated muggle-borns, Voldemort. You, Tom Marvolo Riddle, took away my only child. A child that hadn't been over two years old." _

_He had sounded so very furious that I shivered. But it was his last curse, the one that was uttered through my mouth that made my blood turn cold. _

_"La figment Dementor's Kiss." _

_I could virtually see Voldemort's soul torn apart, his mouth and eyes streaking with blood as he stopped moving. By then, I couldn't help it anymore, and sank on my knees on the floor. I was just so tire. The voices then urged me to draw back the dagger, which I did, and it was then did a pair of rings drop into my lap, held in place with a medallioned necklace. _

_"You've done well, Sandrilene. Go to sleep." _

_The two voices, melded into one, said. It sounded so soothing, and so… achingly familiar that I complied, and went to sleep. A sleep, that, for once, was void of screams and tortured faces. _

_It was also the first decent sleep I had that was filled with smiling faces, of my mom and dad, of all those who'd died, and you._

_Surprisingly, it had been the start of some very strange dreams…_

"Harry Potter!"

A shrill scream sounded throughout the house, and Harry sighed, knowing that his free time is about to end.

_I'll talk about that later. Hogwarts been pretty much celebrating, I've tried not to participate in it, but usually get pulled to them anyways. The Wizarding World is still trying to recover from the year's losses… too many people had died last year. I'm really sorry about your father… but your mother is now recovering. I still visit her time and again by floo, and she's staying back with your grandparents, in France. She wanted to get away from the painful past. Not say I can't blame her for that… but._

"Harry Potter! Get down this instant!"

The high-pitched screamed sounded once again throughout the house, and Harry yelled back exasperated, "Yes, aunt Petunia!"

_ Ah well, I'll write more later. It's time for my own nightmare. _

_Love, _

_Harry._

Carefully, Harry blew over the ink, hoping that it would dry soon, before setting a vanishing spell on the words with wandless magic - a skill he'd acquire after the last duel, amongst many others. Then, placing the diary, quill and ink bottle under the loose floorboard, he took a deep breath and walked carefully out of the room, taking care not to upset his back wounds. The final battle against Voldemort had been over for two months, and though he had won, the injuries were not totally healed… even Madam Pomfrey's healing abilities could not speed up the healing of the ruptured organs in his body, not to mention the alarming number of broken bones. 

Still, he had come back to Privet Drive for the holidays, much to the disparity of Madam Pomfrey. Indeed, two weeks was not enough to heal all of his injuries. Still, Harry had made her promise not to tell the Headmaster about the extent of his injuries, and, knowing that the first diagnosis of his wounds had been after his being awakened, Professor Dumbledore could not have known how drastic his own conditions had been.

Madam Pomfrey had tutted him incessantly the day before the holidays were scheduled to start, muttering something about how idiotically stupid he had been, going back to his muggle relatives when he should be in the hospital wing, recovering. At that time, Harry just smiled quietly, giving her the innocent, lost-boy look like that of when he made her promise not to tell Dumbledore about his condition.

It had been a look that none had been able to resist, and even the ever-forbidding nurse complied, though albeit unwilling.

After all, Madame Pomfrey had started to grow fond of the young boy, and was constantly worried about the gradual change in his medical stats since he entered the hospital wing… something that wasn't exactly good. That was why she constantly sent several vials of potions via Owl Post to him, ordering him to take it if he felt unwell, and that he was to owl her if any of the wounds hurt. The black-haired boy did not do it of course, but at that time, he had acquiesced so as to placate the worried medi-witch.

Carefully walking down to the kitchen, Harry saw his uncle glower at him, and inwardly, the boy sighed, knowing that a day of work would have been scheduled for him already. Tossing a piece of paper towards him, Vernon growled, "Finish the work before we come back home! If not," the whale of a man slapped his belt against Harry's back with malice, "you'll be in for another round of fun, boy."

Harry gazed on emotionlessly, nodding his head in compliance, replying quietly, "Yes uncle Vernon."

At this, Vernon frowned, wondering why the boy no longer seemed fearful of him this summer. Last summer, Harry Potter had still been rather frightened of him, yet this summer, his eyes had turned emotionless, as if he'd seen the worst of evil and lived, as if he'd lived his life and of many others. That look… that impassive expression riled him, and he longed to make the ruly-haired boy look fearful of him once more.

With another whip of his belt, this time drawing blood on the boy's forearm, Vernon Dursley went out of the kitchen, with Petunia and Dudley in tow as they went out for the day. When the Dursleys were finally out of the room, Harry sighed, feeling his back burn once more with pain. The injuries he was sustaining from his stay with the Dursleys was getting worse than before, but still, he never felt anything. To be more specific, the pain numbed his grief…

So what if Voldemort was dead?

He had lost too many.

* * *

**End of prologue**

How do you find this? Ought I to continue? If it does, it'll definitely be HP/SS… though not necessarily slash. You'll understand later on.

La figment Dementor's Kiss: a curse whereby the Dementor's Kiss is performed via wand/wandless magic.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: All of Harry Potter belongs to Ms. J K Rowling. I am but borrowing the plot, using it to create another story. 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

**

In destroying him, I've met my fall 

**

Chapter 1 

_Dear Cedric, _

It's been one and a half months since the last war. 

Six weeks since the Wizarding World attained peace. 

... Forty-two odd days since Ron and Sirius died. 

I doubt that many would have recovered so soon from the aftermath. At least I_ haven't, what with Sirius dying in my arms, after his being hit concurrently by Malfoy and Nott's Avada Kedavra when he tried shielding me against their hexes. He had been the first to die, and that had been the day when I was kidnapped. _

Kidnapped. 

How embarassing. 

The Death Eaters had managed to catch me unaware when I was out in the Shrieking Shack visiting Padfoot - he had just came back from another mission. The two of us had managed to stun several of the Death Eaters, but the odds of winning when against a dozen skilled_ killers was rather minute... I just hadn't expected to lose Sirius to them... _

I had been brought to one of the more secluded manors, one, which I was told, was unplottable. The Death Eaters had... played with me. Hexes, curses and the Unforgivables had been used often, with Crucio being the most common among it. After all, I've learnt to stop Imperio within seconds - a skill I'm ever thankful, the things they wanted me to do were disgusting - and Voldemort wanted me alive... they couldn't do anything too harmful to me. Unfortunately though, muggle torture became an everyday punishment. Whips, cat-o-nine-tails, shackles, brands, those I have endured without a sound, but their forcing themselves into me had me screaming. 

It had been a nightmare. 

I felt so dirty that I had wanted to die... Well, it was not as if I hadn't tried. Merlin, I've never knew that the Death Eaters were so... demented. I've had rough ideas that they might enjoy raping women - the temptations prove to be too appealing for those bastards to bear, but males? I still shudder at that prospect. God, how it had hurt... 

Snape only managed to get me out about a week later. By then, I had already felt so weak that I was about to drop dead anytime, anywhere. He had been his usual scowling self, this time even worse when he saw me. I had fully expected him to blast at me for being so stupid to get caught... that was why his pouring down vials of energy-regaining potions into my throat without any words had caught me by surprise. Maybe he wasn't as bad as I thought him to be. The potion was also why I managed to duel against Voldemort for so long without falling on my face. In the end, Snape's cover had been blown, but thankfully, he had been fully capable of fending for myself before Dumbledore's forces arrived. 

Still, why the students, especially Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Draco entered the fight was beyond me. How could Dumbledore send them? Did he not understand the infinite dangers that stand? Ron is now dead, Ginny is still in a coma, Draco sustained so many injuries that he had been on life-support for a week, and Hermione is still trying to recover from the aftermath. Even Snape, or so I heard, got knocked out... wonder if he's woken up? 

You know, Cedric, I'm kind of glad that you're no longer here. The evils unleashed for the past two years had been frighteningly close to home. We were being trained very much for survival, for even Hogwarts had been pliable for damage since the end of my fifth year. For some reason, the wards surrounding Hogwarts were starting to break, and the professors had gathered that the protection set by the Founders were fading when someone managed to crack the core node in the Forbidden Forest - the one huge crystal that set all of the spells in place. 

By the end of sixth year, most of the students are already tired, war-bitten, and sickened_ by the terrors commited by those bastards. Hell, I'm even beginning to understand why our people fear his name so much... he's too damned good a strategist, and under his lead, the Death Eaters were..._wild_. _

All of us have changed. We're forced to grow up at the age when we're supposed to enjoy life to the fullest. Many have become bitter at the lost their family to the war, and I know of several Gryffindors who had lost their parents. Those who became orphaned were permanently placed under their Head of Houses care, and they stayed in Hogwarts all year round. After all, Hogwarts, though vulnerable, was still considered the most safe under Dumbledore's guide. 

Now that we possess a world free of evil... of Voldemort at least, the younger students would, hopefully, retain the innocence that only children will have, though for the older ones, I'll not know of how much they've changed. I know I have matured both mentally and physically, especially after the duel with Voldemort... It had made me seen how susceptible even wizards like Voldemort are to death, and fear. That look in his eyes, the fear evident in his scarlet eyes had made me realize that he, too, is human enough to fear death. 

The voices still reside in my head, occassionally giving me encouragement, but most of the time blasting me for allowing uncle Vernon to have his way with me. They are pretty enraged with my relatives, and sometimes, I wonder if I really am_ going mad, what with having two voices, sometimes four, in my head. Then, there is this constant mantra that they kept saying, 'We'll come for you soon.' Wonder what this means... _

Furthermore, I keep having this weird sensation when I awake from dreams of those two voices, the feeling that I've known them since before the duel. Then, my body will have this very odd experience, it was as if I'm changing into someone else. I know this sounds silly, but it's like my skin is stretching to fit another physical form. It hurts sometimes, but fortunately, it hasn't gone as bad as uncle Vernon's beatings... 

Now that_ is another nightmare, and nope, I'm not going into it. Anyway, it hadn't been as bad as what I've gone through in the hands of the Death Eaters, and morbid as it seems, those beatings had made me feel that I've redeemed myself, that I'm... _alive._ That had been why those two voices had been scolding me. They kept telling me that I should not feel this way, that I'm not guilty for the deaths of Sirius, Ron, you, and many others... _

Still, I just can't help but feeling responsible. If I had killed him immediately when he first fell, if I had been able to fend them off in my fourth year, then those who've died might not have died. For this alone, I can help but feel guilty. 

Then again, it really is my fault... 

Not knowing what else to write, Harry Potter hurriedly signed his name, his thoughts still clouded by the smiling forms of Ron when they won the sixth year Quidditch Cup, and of Sirius, when he came by for Christmas at Hogwarts. Unnoticed to himself, tears started falling from those brilliant emerald orbs as he wept once more for the deaths of his loved ones. 

Sirius's name had been cleared after the war, after Fudge had been pulled down from office by the public. Arthur Weasley had, by popular demand, became the next Minister, and his first trial was that of Wormtail, who had been arrested that very day. He had been testified to be a Death Eater, much to the horror of the congress, thus within days, Sirius's name had been cleared, with Wormtail being thrown into Azkaban. His grave now resided next to his friends James and Lily, and the formerly-arrested-properties under his name had been transferred over to Harry - his only godson. 

However, Harry had not cared much about that property. He had lost the only family he had, and even Remus, encouraging as he was, couldn't take up that place, now empty, in his heart. 

Realizing where his thoughts had gone, Harry wiped the tears off his cheeks, and tried to stand up, wincing as the slashes on his back bled once more. His body was getting thinner, close to the point of being severely malnutritioned, yet this had not bothered him much. His eyes still held the same pain as it had weeks ago... pain not for himself, but for those that had died. 

Quietly, he walked over to Hedwig, smiling slightly as the owl nipped at him worriedly. 

"I'm fine, Hedwig. Here," he placed a portion of the toast given to him for dinner, "eat it. I'm sorry for not having more." The white owl hooted indignantly, as if protesting that he shouldn't give her so much when he himself did not have much to eat in the first place, but Harry just ruffled her feathers lightly, calming the irate owl. 

When Hedwig finally started eating, he went over to the misty window, gazing at the beauty of the lightning storm. Opening the window, he allowed the raindrops to fall onto his face, the coolness of the waters washing over him as he felt a lingering pain all over his body. Ignoring it, he continued to play with the rain, though Hedwig, sensing _something_ turned over to look at him, only to be surprised to see a girl in place of her master, her black tresses flying wildly with the incoming wind. The appearance only sustained itself for a few seconds though, for Harry had reverted back to his old self... 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

Hogwarts 

Hospital Wing 

Severus Snape, resident git of the dungeons, awoke to an awful backache. 

"Bloody Hell..." He groaned, trying to find a posture that would alleviate the pain, but not finding any. Squinting against the bright light, he could see two vague figures in front of him, yet it took several minutes before his eyes adjusted to see the forms. 

"Poppy, Albus." The man croaked, and a comforting hand held him up in a sitting posture whilst another fed him a potion and some water. He muttered a word of thanks, grateful that the potion helped regain some of the lost strength. Gazing at the relieved faces of both people, Severus felt albeit embarassed, though he covered it up rather well. He _did_ turned flaming red when Minerva McGonagall suddenly appeared by his bed and launched herself at him, seemingly in tears, going on about how he'd finally woke up. 

"Get off me, woman." The black-haired man had growled, pushing the usually strict professor into Pomfrey's arms. McGonagall, noticing her actions, apologized immediately, but Snape cut her off her tirade, asking, "How long was I out?" 

"Almost two months, Severus." Dumbledore replied, his gnarled hand placed on the younger man's arm in a comforting gesture. He too, had been upset when the potions master had went into coma, for through the past years, there existed a close relationship between the two men, a relationship that bordered almost to a father-son bond. Therefore, he had been delighted when Poppy called on him, telling him that Severus was finally waking up. 

Snape, on the other hand, was shocked by the amount of time he had slept through. 

"_Two months?_" He intoned, disbelieving. The transfiguration mistress nodded her head, smiling slightly, "Yes. Many had been unconscious in the last battle. Even he," the witch pointed at Dumbledore, who was smiling wryly, "wasn't immune to the backlash when the last bout of curses broke the shields that had been placed by Merlin-knows-who." 

At this, Severus fell silent, a silence that Poppy thought was due to his tiredness, and she hurried the two professors out with the excuse that 'Severus needs his rest'. Dumbledore, knowing that the black-haired man was pondering on something, just patted his shoulders, urging, "You need some rest, food, and a decent haircut." 

His comment brought the potions master out of his reverie as he fingered his hair that was now past the usual shoulder length. Scowling, he accio-ed a piece of black velvet, with which he tied his hair with, retorting, "Maybe Albus, I'll just leave it as it is." 

The headmaster just smiled, happy that the man was finally willing to change his image. Then, remembering something, Dumbledore spoke seriously, "Severus, Voldemort is dead." 

"I know, Albus." Snape trailed absently, rubbing his left forearm unconsciously as Dumbledore left the room, being hauled out by Poppy. 

"I was there." he mumbled, his mind still reeling from what he had saw... 

He had seen how Voldemort had died, how the dagger had been flicked into Voldemorts body... how that voice had sounded so eerily in the mind of those present. 

It had not sounded like Harry Potter at all. In fact, he was willing to bet all his potions that the boy... no, _young man_ had been possessed by some unknown spirit or whatever... not that he was superstitious, but there _had_ been cases of such possessions through the history of magic. 

Hell, he was even beginning to suspect that some spirit had guided him through the dome shield that had surrounded the arena of Voldemort and Potter's duel. The dome had been impregnable - all who tried passing into it were stunned, petrified, or dead. Yet, a voice had guided him into the battlefield, bringing him to where Potter had fallen, the gleaming dagger still gripped tightly in his hand, along with a chained necklace. One, which had two rings in it, the insides engraved in a tongue known to few... 

Oh yes, he knew what those words meant, but it had came as a shock to him. Who would have known that two of the founders were lovers? Lovers who'd pledged their entire life in a mystical soul bond that would last through eternity? Then, the voice rang once more in his head, this time, sounding rather amused. 

_"Who'd have known that you too, knew parseltongue? Oh! And an elemental mage too..."_

Severus had been shocked by how the voice had known two of his hidden abilities, but the voice turned serious immediately when he kneeled down and carried Harry in his arms. 

_"Take care of him, shadowmaster. He is my beloved."_

The black-haired man had just nodded his head, 'feeling' the voice smile, though he ignored it, stalking through the blood field with the knowledge that the boy in his arms needed medical attention immediately. However, he could only make it to the border of the second shield, for the dome got shattered, and the backlash rendered virtually everyone unconscious. 

_"Take care of him, Severus. I'll be by soon."_

It had been the last command before he lain on the ground, Harry's body under him as he shielded the boy from the worst of the backlash... 

Remembering the voice, Severus Snape frowned, looking out into the stormy night as he wondered... 

_What could all these mean?_

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

_

End of chapter 1

_

Well, finally up! Phew! I thought to add some Harry torture in this, but... I dunno, things got kinda out of hand... 

Anyway, thank you **Indil Elondil**, **Keteri**, **ENT THE CANNIBLE**, **Mikee** and **little buffy** for reviewing!!! It really gladdens me that someone out there likes this story! 

Also, if there's any question, don't hesitate to ask! I'm afraid that I've got this bad habit of writing, then realizing that no one understands it ^_^! 

Ephirel =þ 


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: All of Harry Potter belongs to Ms. J K Rowling. I am but borrowing the plot, using it to create another story. 

Note: I've made some changes to the previous chapter, concerning the months. I wanted to add something about Harry's birthday, and realized from a reviewer that three months would mean September was near! 

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**

In destroying him, I've met my fall 

**

Chapter 2 

_ "Dammit Godric! Get him out of me! AH!" The black-haired man yelled, his emerald green eyes filled with pain as strong, tanned hands braced the screaming man's arms in an attempt to keep him from moving too much. Two women, standing by the four-poster bed, just glanced at one another, and rolled their eyes in exasperation as they continued on with their work. _

"Sala, it might not be a he_." A black-haired lady reminded the man whilst placing a basin of warm water at the sidetable beside her. Turning over to her friend, she passed Godric a damp cloth to wipe away the sweat on the laboring man's forehead, knowing that the golden-haired lord was worried despite his seemingly calm demeanor. The last lady, a blonde who was standing at the end of the bed, just murmured absently, amber eyes distracted, "It's a she, Salazar. Rowena, can you help me get another cloth? This one's soaked with blood. And Salazar, _breathe_. Then push!" _

"I'm pushing, woman!" The black-haired man, Salazar, growled before biting his lip to keep from screaming out once more. Godric, noticing this, forcefully opened his mouth and placed his arm into it instead, murmuring softly, "Don't hurt yourself like that, Sala." 

Said man just remained helpless, as the contractions came again, this time stronger than before. Without a choice, he bit into Godric's arm, drawing blood that streaked his mouth red. Not caring about his arm, Godric gazed at Salazar's pale form and asked anxiously, "Helga, can't you give him some numbing potion?" 

"Don't be silly, Godric. He would not be able to feel anything!" The blonde lady tutted in annoyance. It wasn't everyday that she had to deal with male pregnancy, and Godric was starting to get into her nerves. 

"That's exactly the point! To not feel_ anything!" The golden-haired man retorted, worried that his beloved would not be able to take it anymore. _

"Godric," Helga started, her patience running thin, "If he's numb, he won't feel anything. And if he doesn't feel anything, he won't know_ if he's pushing. Then, the child would not be birthed!" Turning over to the man in question, she continued gently, "Salazar, I can see the child's head. Now, when the next contraction comes, I need you to push real hard." _

The pale man just nodded weakly, blanching as the next bout of contractions came. Biting into Godric's arm, he pushed, hard_, and screamed as the child head came out. In the next second, the body slided out with ease and an infant's wailing could be heard echoing in the large bedchamber, much to the anticipation of the women present. _

Cradling the young infant, Helga Hufflepuff cut off the umbilical cord and tied it swiftly before carefully wiping the blood off the child, not daring to use any magic to do the job. Then, carefully wrapping the child in a fluffy towel, she smiled, bringing the child over to her parents. 

"You have a lovely daughter, Salar, Godric." The lady smiled, placing the child carefully into Salazar's arms. Tufts of black hair could already be seen on the child's head, and though young, the delicate features on her face was distinct enough to know that she would be a beauty in years to come. The infant's eyes were closed, but all four of them, being masters of their separate elements, knew what color they were. 

"She has your eyes, Salazar." Rowena said softly, sapphire eyes filled with wonder. 

Godric, in turn, closed his eyes in relief, thankful that both of them were safe. Giving his bonded a gentle kiss on the forehead, the golden lord traced the infant's cheek with a finger in awe, "We have a daughter." 

Salazar just smiled slightly, enjoying the feel of the child snuggling in his arms. Surprisingly, the child had quietened when placed in her 'mother's' arms, and was now sleeping peacefully as the others looked on. 

"What are you going to name her?" Helga inquired, a scroll in hand as she waited the parents' answer. Godric glanced at Salazar, knowing that he already had a name in mind. Kissing the child's forehead, the black-haired man replied tenderly, "She will be Sandrilene Helene Slytherin Gryffindor." 

Writing down the name with a flourish, the blonde muttered some words, sealing the birth certificate before dismissing it with a wave of her hand whilst Rowena went over to the young child. 

"Well, Sandrilene. Welcome to Hogwarts." 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

Harry Potter awoke with a start, bathed in cold sweat as he tried to make out what the dream had meant. 

_No one mentioned that Slytherin and Gryffindor had a child! And that name... the voices had called me that before!_

Shivering at the coincidence, he clutched his threadbare blanket tighter about himself, glancing at the clock by the corner of his bed. It was 10:40... An hour more, and he would turn seventeen. 

Noticing a slight noise by the study table, the black-haired boy padded over to Hedwig, who was getting restless in her cage. It was only then did he realize that he had not let the owl out for her nightly hunt, and apologetically, Harry opened the lock, ruffling the white feathers gently, "Sorry Hedwig. I've forgotten about that. Here, go get some game for yourself." With that, the owl nipped his arm in affection before flying out of the room, leaving her master to head for the bathroom in silence. 

It had taken Harry quite some time to get to the bathroom, what with his sprained left ankle and all... but it was when he entered the room was the full extent of his injuries shown. Sitting on a stool, the black-haired boy untied the torn cloth, revealing a broken piece of wood that settled as a makeshift crutch for his dislocated right wrist - one that had been in this state since three weeks ago. The skin was swollen, and the bone could be seen jutting out at a slight angle, pushing against the skin. 

His back was a criss-cross mosaic of red welts, with colorful bruises healing at different stages. His body had never healed entirely before he came back from Hogwarts, and now, the treatment by the Dursleys - Vernon in particular - had worsened their conditions. Not surprising, bones broken tend to break more easily, and Vernon's punches weren't exactly merciful. That, along with the meagre pensions of food, had made the already thin boy severely malnutritioned, which in turn, had seemed to stunt his growth, seeing as he was already sixteen and yet, was only 168cm tall. 

Carefully, the boy washed the grime off the injured wrist - he had been made to do weeding that evening - ignoring the red whip marks on his arms. Vernon Dursley was getting crueler throughout the summer, and this could be seen by the injuries he now sustained. The man knew that Harry had dislocated his wrist, and broken several bones, but still, he never bothered to bring him for medical treatment. Instead, the tasks assigned to the boy never ceased, and Harry continued doing them quietly despite the mistreatment. 

Looking up at the mirror, the hero of the Wizarding World grimaced. One of his eyes spotted a bruise where Dudley backhanded him during dinner, and one cheek was still red where Aunt Petunia slapped him for not doing the shepherd's pie to perfection. It seemed as if nothing he did would satisfy them anymore, and hitting him has become a sport the Dursleys seem addicted to. 

Limping back to his room, preoccupied by thoughts of why he was enduring all these silently, the Gryffindor was pleasantly surprised by a small stack of presents by the bed. _So, someone **did** remember my birthday._

The smile that he held grew wider on seeing the Weasley's family owl Errol, settling on the perch of the window with Hedwig and an unfamiliar tawny owl. All of them seemed quiet, hooting only occassionally, as if conversing with one another and Harry passed some dried fruit over to the owls - food that he'd filched earlier on, whispering softly, "Sorry, I've got nothing much today..." _Like I'd any for the entire summer._The boy thought sardonically as he ruffled the unfamiliar owl's feathers, "Haven't seen you around, have I?" 

The owl nodded, his beak pointing towards the direction of the gifts. Harry raised an eyebrow, asking aloud, "You brought that big box of stuff alone?" 

As if understanding his words, the owl nodded proudly, earning another smile from the boy. 

"Thanks." 

Walking over to his bed, Harry picked up one of the packages, and tore away the brown canvas wrapping, opening the white envelope carefully. He never thought that the Weasleys' would remember his birthday, seeing as they were still grieving over Ron's death, and with trembling hands, unfolded the letter. 

_Dear Harry, _

This is Gred and Forge saying Happy Birthday! 

Yep, Mum wanted us to write this instead... seeing as she knew not what to say. She's still mourning over Ron, you know, and about Ginny. She hasn't woke up yet... Ginny's still in Hogwarts, last time we saw, and Snape was also in a coma too! Too bad we did not bring that color-changing potion along. We'd love to see that git's hair go neon pink! 

Well, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes just had their first store opened last week, in Diagon Alley. We wanted to invite you along, what with you're the grand investor of our works, but Mom and Dad wanted you to get some rest. What we feel is that they do not want you to be exposed to the crowd of people wanting to see you in person. You'd think that after what you've done, they'd finally give you some peace, but no. They just **have** to see you, shake you hand, go on crapping about how wonderful you are. Those niceties can be done without. We - our family that is - do know that we want you to have a break from all this... Ron had told us about how you hate the publicity. So, next time when you go out to Hogsmeade, or Diagon Alley, just ask them to f... 

Sorry, Harry. That had been George writing. Don't bother about deciphering the last part. Anyway, we've packed a box of our inventions into your present. You can try it on your cousin! I guarantee the effects will be **very** interesting! Mom has also baked a lot of muffins and cookies inside, aside from the regular pies and fudge. Try not to stuff them down your mouth too soon, they're rather rich - in the food sense of course, and too much of them will make your stomach queasy. Eww... I'm starting to sound like mom... 

Haha, Fred's becoming soft! Anyway Harry, would you like to come over to our home for the last two weeks before school reopens? We've graduated, but it's still nice to send you over to the platform if you want us to... we'd be like brothers? What say you about that? 

Reply soon! 

Your partners in crime 

'Gred and Forge', Fred and George Weasley. 

Harry smiled sadly, knowing that it was albeit impossible for him to go over to the Weasleys' this year. It wasn't because of the Dursleys... his heart still hurt too much to go back to the Burrow, where he could feel Ron's presence so imminently in the air. Even Ginny too, hadn't awoken from the last backlash, and this was a big worry to the Weasleys. Despite the light tone in the letter, it was evident that Mrs. Weasley was still upset over Ginny, and Mr. Weasley was too busy in the Ministry due to the post-war period, where a lot of reformation was still going on, to stay with her to mourn over their youngest boy's death. 

With a heavy heart, he wrote a polite declination to the twins' offer of staying at their home, but congratulated them genuinely for the opening of the first shop. In fact, the ruly-haired boy was sure that those two will bring galleons into their shop with their ingenuity and humorous gags. Not surprising, they already had many people laughing during their Hogwarts years, especially when they made the Slytherins hair turn bright green with one of the sweets, and the teachers all spotted royal purple robes with orange polka dots. 

Pushing the hilarious thought aside, he opened another parcel, the largest one which the unfamiliar owl had brought, and grinned at what it held. It was a box full of muggle clothes and other useful muggle stuff, from a swiss knife to odd and ends like belts, a watch and some knick-knacks. Without a doubt, it was gifted from Hermione. Fishing out the letter, he read eagerly. 

_Dear Harry, _

First of all, this is Pyre's first flight, so I hope the present has gotten to you in one piece! Well, the Dursleys better not be mistreating you in any way. Last summer hadn't been quite a fun one, and my hands had been itching to strangle your uncle since you've talked about the chores you had to do. Or maybe I could put our studies to practice! I know my dagger-throwing skills have improved a lot, Professor Moody said so himself! One knife would be enough to end his life... Eww, I'm starting to sound like an assassin. 

Hm... enough talking about that. Surprised by the present? I should hope so... it is **definitely** different from what I usually give you. Books. Hee, anyways, I'm rather sure that your relatives would not bother to buy any new clothes for you this year. So, I got my mother to go shop for boys' clothes at downtown London. 

Imagine my embarassment when I told my mom that I'm getting clothes for my best friend. Don't worry, I just told her that you did not have the time this year to get them yourself, seeing how you need all the rest you can get. She's still sympathetic about what our world has gone through... 

Well, sad thoughts aside, I hope that those clothes do fit you. If not, you can just shrink it later when we reach school. (No magic out of school, remember?) I bought those belts just in case you might need you. The other things, you can figure out yourself. The knife is quite useful for outdoor work, but mind you, it's sharp. Be careful when you handle it! 

I'll be heading over to the Leaky Cauldron in the last week of the holidays. Dad has given me extra allowance to stay there for the days before school reopens. I'm wondering if you'd want to come by? I could help tutor you in whatever subject you're still lagging in. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September 1st! 

Love, 

Hermione 

P/S: Remember to do your homework! 

P/P/S: I'm Head Girl! 

It had been an unofficial fact amongst the Gryffindors that Hermione would eventually become Head Girl, but actually _hearing _the news from her brought another grin onto the boy's face. Indeed, he was truly happy for Hermione, for he, and Ron, had known how much she wished to become the Head Girl of their level, to prove (previously) to Draco and his goons that a 'mudblood' could best the purebloods academically. However, after their so-called truce when Draco turned over to the light, it was more of an aim that she couldn't put off. 

Writing back to Hermione was fairly easy. He thanked her for the gifts, and agreed to meeting one week earlier at the Leaky Cauldron to have some time off together. Goodness knows how much he missed their late night talks while Voldemort was still wreaking havoc in the Wizarding World. Hermione was a very good counsellor, and had given him quite a few heart-felt advice when he could no longer cope with the stress building inside him. She and Ron had been the pillar that supported him throughout the war, and now, with Ron gone, she was the only one he could rely on from help, and the sisterly love she freely gave the compassion-starved boy helped him alot. 

"So, you're Pyre?" Harry asked, carefully tying the rolled up parchment onto one of his talons. The owl hooted, glad that the boy finally knew his name, and Harry continued, "Give this back to your mistress, and thank you." He ruffled the owl's feathers one last time before the night creature flew off into the darkness, leaving only Hedwig alone with him. 

This time, with Hedwig on his lap, he opened the last gift, a leather bound photo album. Flipping over to the next page, tears started gathering in those wide emerald orbs. 

It had been taken on his last birthday, which had been celebrated at the Burrow. Both he and Ron had their faces caked with icing, and the duo were grinning at the camara. Hermione, deciding to be wilful for one day, posed with a jug of juice behind the two boys, and started pouring the iced concoction down their backs, earning shouts of outrage from the boys whilst the others laughed on. Sirius and Remus too, had been there, as Dumbledore had explained how Sirius was innocent, and how the ex-convict wished to celebrate his godson's birthday together for once, as a family. 

The next few photos were also taken during their stay in the burrow. There were also photos taken in their school, as well as those during winter, when they were having a snowball fight. At the last part of the album, Harry saw something that made his eyes water once more... 

It was of the Marauders, and Lily. 

Pictures from their school years, all the way to their marriage was also compiled in this book. Labelled by the years, it chronicled their prankster lives in Hogwarts, until Sirius and his father became Aurors, to their wedding photograph where Lily kept waving at the camara, smiling so blissfully at James. 

Hurriedly, the boy closed the album, for fear that his tears might spoil the old photographs that were present in the album. Nonetheless, he took out the parchment that had served as a bookmark for the page which held the marauders' graduation photograph. 

_Hello Harry, _

First of all, I'm sorry. I couldn't seem to find a suitable present for you. So instead, I've compiled an album of whatever photos I can find. Most of those marauder pictures are from Sirius and I. Surprisingly (or mayhaps not so), he named me guardian of the Black Manor in his will, and I've scoured his room for some of the photos you've seen. 

Remember Harry, these pictures are not to hurt you further. They are meant to let you remember them through their happier times, of how you've laughed along with them. 'Do not keep your head buried in the sad memories of those who've died. Mourn, yes, but keep them alive in your heart.' A good friend of mine had said that to me earlier on, when they thought Sirius to be the one who've betrayed Lily and James, and I found it very true. Do try to go by it... it'll help. 

Harry, Siri has left quite a lot of things for you. Perhaps you might not remember it, but you have stayed quite frequently in Black Manor with Sirius and I when your parents decide to have a night out. The room is still as it had been sixteen years ago, and I was wondering if you might want to stay here permanently, seeing as I might be able to gain your guardianship. Dumbledore has agreed to help me **only if** you are willing. 

You need not reply to me so soon about this. The decision will ultimately be yours to make, Harry. Take your time. Till then, Happy Birthday. 

Yours, 

Remus 'Moony' Lupin 

Harry's eyes widened at the implied meaning of the letter. Lupin was asking if he'd be willing to come stay at Sirius' home! His first reaction had been to agree immediately, but it was quickly wiped out when he remembered his condition... 

Moony would definitely _not_ be pleased to see Harry in this state. No. He would kill the Dursleys if he saw this. Sighing, he wrote a reply, suggesting that he would stay with the werewolf after he graduated. As of now, he'd just stay with the Dursleys, and figure out a way to hide the injuries, or find a cure for them before he sees Hermione. She's another witch that thirsts for blood... correction, for the Dursleys' blood. 

Carefully placing the presents under the loose floorboard, Harry petted Hedwig's crown as he lay on his bed, thinking about Moony's letter. The man had said not to let sadness overtake him, but to think of them through the happy times they've been together. _But how do you do that?_ It still hurt to think about Ron, much less Sirius. It hurt to think of how they died, hurt to think of how happy their lives had been before. Placing his uninjured arm across his eyes, he silently let the tears fall. 

The pain he endured now with the Dursleys could not be compared to the pain still lingering in his chest at the thought of his friends. As it is, the reason why he actually _embraced_ uncle Vernon's punishments without a word had actually been to numb the pain he felt in his heart, which had hurt since Sirius' death. 

Immersed in grief, Harry never knew that another creature had entered the room until the notes of a sad song diffused into his mind... It was a song so ethereal that one could be thought to have entered heaven, and Harry pushed himself to sit up properly, staring in shock at the silver-blue eyes of a... phoenix. 

The ruly-haired boy could not be sure if it was one, for unlike the phoenixes he'd read of, this creature had icy-blue and silver plumage, her eyes a deep silver-sapphire that seemed to read minds. Furthermore, this phoenix had sung a song that sounded sad, yet familiar. It was almost as if he'd heard it before, though it was definitely not from Fawkes. 

In a cautious manner, he reached over, not really daring to touch the magnificent creature, causing her - he was rather sure it's a female - to twill a note in displeasure. Even Hedwig seemed amused by her master's carefulness, and hooted in what sounded like laughter. Albeit embarassed by the two birds, Harry touched the phoenix's feathers, which felt like cool satin, whilst the phoenix snuggled closer to his palm. Tugging lightly at Harry's shirt, she motioned the boy to look at the floor, where a _very_ bulky box was situated. 

Curious as to what was in it, imagine his surprise when the wrapping melted under his touch to reveal a beautifully hand-crafted trunk. Opening the latch, he took out a thick tome, surprised that it felt light to the touch. Apparently, someone had been thoughtful enough to place a feather light charm on it. Carefully, he opened the tome, and was once again taken aback by the sheer topics covered by the tome that were listed in the content page. 

There were the basic subjects of Transfiguration, Charms and Potions, as well as a detailed history before the Founders' time, Astronomy, Runes, Arithmancy, Divination, and surprisingly, an ultra-comprehensive guide to the Dark Arts, encompassing even the spells that Dark wizards in medieval times use. However, Harry frowned at the content page. 

_If this book has so much information, I'd have thought that it'd be thicker than what it is._

Puzzled, Harry broke the seal of the scroll that accompanied the tome. 

_Happy seventeenth birthday. _

I hope this tome finds you well... Harold James Potter, isn't it? The book is actually a copy of the book I would have given to you in person, but considering how it is written in languages all over the world, I've made a translation instead, and kept the original copy. Remember, just tap the subject you wish browse on with your forefinger three times, and the tome will magically bring you to that topic in the next page. This is easier than to have everything written out, for the book will probably be taller than I myself! 

Most of the information found in that volume has been compiled by Helga, Salar, Godric and myself. The history part might not be relevant, considering how you're in a world thousands of years after our time, but it might prove interesting if you wish to study the Dark ages after Merlin's disappearance in the World. 

All of us here miss you very much, child. Helga is still trying to find a way to get us over, but until then, take care of yourself. I'm sorry I can't help much, but if you do have anything you wish to clarify about schoolwork and such, you can enter into my room in Hogwarts castle. All of our rooms are in the south tower, near the dungeons. It is guarded by Merlin's statue, and my room is east of the den. 

The entrance password is 'Oracle', and mine is 'Valenti'. 

Till we meet again, 

Rowena Ravenclaw 

Harry dropped the scroll in shock. _Rowena Ravenclaw wrote this?_ Quickly, he re-read the letter, and was sure that it was addressed to him. Perhaps someone had played a fool of him, but it wasn't very possible. As told, he tapped on the Dark Arts, and sure enough, words started forming in the next page, introducing the start of Dark Magic, and how it had slowly became more popular amongst wizards during the Dark Ages. 

No, such books cannot possibly be pranks... Not when the description of how people died from certain hexes were so evident, and how the Unforgiveables had come about. Strange enough, Avada Kedavra had been invented to release terminal patients from their pain, and it was only centuries later did wizards use it for killing purposes. 

Shaking his head, he took out another box, this time, containing a shallow marble basin - one that had runes carved around the edge. 

A penseive. 

Taking the scroll that was placed within the empty pensieve, the boy read. 

_Dear Harry, _

Happy birthday dear. This year should be filled with surprises for both you, and the others who care for you. And no, don't take it too seriously, no blood shall be shed the coming year. In fact, you might very well gain the friendship of an unlikely person. One, whom, shall stay by your side until you decide to go independent once more. 

I'm sorry to not have been able to find you sooner. It had taken me almost twelve years to find your exact locations, though finding out the cause had only took half a year. Your parents weren't exactly pleased to find you being brought here by Voldemort... ah, but you'll understand it later. 

The dreams should have started by now, as well as the other gifts. Godric has always been complaining of how he couldn't sleep because of it since he was fifteen, and you will most likely be encountering the same problems. That's the reason why I made a penseive for you. Put those troubling thoughts and dreams into it, and ponder over it _only_ if you feel the need to, or have the time. After all, it is always better to keep some things unanswered. However, if you **do** require some help, enter into my room in Hogwarts. It opposite Rowena's; the password's 'Celebithil'. 

Well, perhaps by the time I see you again, I might be able to help you decipher some dreams that you find uncomfortable with. Till then, may Merlin keep you safe. 

Yours, 

Helga Hufflepuff 

Confused, Harry placed the penseive back into the trunk. _Had the letter just said that it was from Helga Hufflepuff? And that the penseive was **made** for him?_ The boy rubbed his temples, feeling a headache building in his head. He was now sure that the previous two letters had been from two of the Founders of Hogwarts, but why was it addressed to him? What exactly did Helga Hufflepuff meant? 

Suddenly, Harry Potter did not feel very well... He wasn't dumb, and what Hufflepuff said was starting to freak him out. His parents? Weren't they James and Lily Potter? Why was he connected to Godric? Exact locations? He had always been in England... hadn't he? 

Troubled, he touched his left forefinger near his temple, and drew it towards the penseive in the open trunk. Slowly, glistening strands of silvery-white substance started filling the penseive - thoughts and dreams that had been bottled inside him for the past year. The silvery substance glowed with an inner light, but Harry ignored it, relieved that his heart felt lighter than he had since God-knows-when. Like what Hufflepuff said, it was always better to keep some things unanswered, and as of now, he did _not_ anticipate an answer to his problem. 

Shaking his head, Harry opened the last gift, which was a heavy leather carrier, sucking his breath as he saw what was inside. A dozen weapons lay before him, ranging from a simple throwing knife to a standard rapier encrusted with jewels. Tucked inside was a short note, one, which Harry read immediately. 

_Dear Harry, _

Happy birthday, my dau... son. Rowena and Helga had been scolding me about giving these weapons for you, saying how a girl should not meddle with such dangerous things. I think it otherwise. The threat that previously endangered your era must have forced you to learn all these weapons beforehand, so I might as well pass these to you now. 

The glaive has been shrunk due to its size, as well as the larger swords and long bow. Only unshrink them when you need it. Otherwise, the dagger should be enough of a protection. The last weapon, my sword, should be in the Headmaster's room. Reclaim it once you go back to Hogwarts, but you may keep it there if you wish. 

There's a weapons rack in my room in Hogwarts. Keep the weapons there, and please keep it in good condition. My father gave it to me before he died, a kind of heirloom, if you must term it strictly. My room is up north, and the password's 'haven'. 

Be safe, my son. Till I see you once more. 

Godric Gryffindor 

Staring at the weapons in awe, Harry touched the broadsword's shrunken blade lightly, shocked by the sharpness of the blade - it had drawn blood from his finger. 

"Gryffindor gave me this?" The boy murmured, eyes alight at the sharp blades. Choosing the dagger that looked similar to Slytherin's dagger, he pocketed it, and kept the others in the trunk. His head was still reeling by the significance of the gifts, not to mention, what the Founder said, and he picked up the last scroll, hoping that it would give him so idea of what was going on. 

_ This trunk has an invisibility spell over it, my child. Just mutter 'be safe' in parseltongue, and it'll turn invisible and untouchable by others' hands. The phoenix you've seen bringing these gifts to you is also mine; her name's Ithil - elvish for the moon - and I wish for you to keep it with you until I come back to retrieve you. _

The past year has been tough for you, dear child. Rest assured though, the next ought to be fine. Helga had said so, and none of us ever question her words, given who she is. I hope my dagger is still with you... it has a soul of its own, and only my descendent or another shadowmaster is able to use it. Anyone else wielding it will cause drastic effects, that was why I've sealed it until you appeared. 

My room is always opened for you at Hogwarts. Just whisper your name and you'll be able to enter. 

Look after yourself, Sandrilene. I'll be coming for you very soon. And remember, no matter where I am, I'm always with you. 

Love, 

Salazar Slytherin. 

If Harry had been puzzled by the previous letters, this was the ultimatum. Slytherin had called him Sandrilene. 

Sandrilene. 

The name of Slytherin's only child. 

Suddenly, all of it was starting to make sense. A reality that Harry did _not_ want to believe. It wasn't possible that he was _her_, was it? 

By the bedpost, Hedwig looked on worriedly. Her master seemed paler than before, and she could not help but turn to the phoenix for help. Nonetheless, Ithil just stared straight back at Hedwig, her voice sounding inside the owl's head, _This is a battle she must do alone._ Hedwig seemed to struggle at this, but finally bowed her head, knowing that what this phoenix spoke was the truth. In submission, the owl replied, _yes, milady._

Ithil just nodded her head slightly, gazing at the clock. It was midnight. Singing softly, a low, haunting song echoed throughout Privet Drive as the phoenix floated in the air. Below her, Harry Potter suddenly fell to the ground and convulsed uncontrollably, pain shooting throughout his body as he huddled in a foetal position. 

Whilst singing, Ithil swept a glance at the door, causing the heavy wood to lock itself, and a sound-proof dome surrounded the room whilst the boy screamed in agony. His skin seemed to be on fire, as if it was taking up the form of another person. His cheekbones started to become higher, the heart-shape of his face being more prominent, as well as his nose and mouth. His body shimmered, the thin frame dissolving to form a willowy figure despite the malnutrition that still had its obvious hold on him. 

And his hair. 

The unruly mop started straightening by itself, lengthening till it reached his waist. By the time the transformation was complete, the boy had fainted, whether was it due to the pain or lack of energy, no one knew. But one thing was certain... 

Harry Potter was no longer a boy. 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

**Dungeons, Hogwarts.**

_"Checkmate." _

Severus grimaced as he once again, lost to the man before him. Annoyed at the man who had disrupted his precious sleep, the potions master scowled, "What do you want?" 

The man, seemingly non-plussed, swung his long ponytail, chuckling slightly, "Why, to play chess with my fellow mate. That's all." 

"Get to the point, Lord Slytherin." Severus gritted his teeth, knowing that this man was here for another reason. Salazar just laughed, knowing that it was seldom that this particular shadowmaster could seem this angry. Containing his amusement, the Founder stared at the potions master hard, bright emerald eyes boring into the other man's soul. 

"Severus Snape. You are the only one I can count on to look after my beloved." Salazar said seriously, leaving the other man in puzzlement. 

"Your beloved?" Severus echoed, muddled. 

"Yes." Slytherin sighed, "It's her birthday today." Remembering his daughter's last smile, his eyes went dim. Turning back to his chess-mate, he continued, "Voldemort is dead? Isn't he?" 

The potions master just nodded mutely, surprised that the Founder knew of what has happened. Salazar then smiled tightly, knowing that it was about time. 

"Helga has found a way for us to reach your time. Until then, I can only converse to the current shadowmaster in dreams... I ask this favor of you, from shadowmaster to shadowmaster. Severus, look after my Sandrilene." The black-haired Founder started, his hand outstretched atop the chessboard. Severus, knowing the seriosity of the situation, questioned, "Who is she?" 

"If not Sandrilene, look after Harry Potter. Until I come back for her." 

His emerald eyes were almost pleading, and Severus had no choice but to agree. Placing his hand a few inches above the Founder's, a black light connected the duo, and Severus replied, "As shadowmaster of my time, I will." 

That said, the light dissipated slowly, and Salazar murmured gratefully, "Thank you." 

His eyes opened abruptly after Salazar left the dreamscape. Without his wand, he lighted a candle and pondered over the absurdity of what he had promised to do. 

To look after Harry Potter until Salazar Slytherin - a man dead for millenias - comes back? He must be getting mad... but a promise was a promise, especially when made between shadowmasters. Sighing, he called upon the shadows, weaving them into a shape and commanded, "Go check on Harold James Potter, resident of Privet Drive. Make sure that he's safe." 

In the next instant after he had ordered the shadows, another came back, whispering in the wind, "_He no longer is there, master._" 

"_WHAT!_" 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~ 

**End of Chapter 2**

Phew, finally gotten this out. It is albeit long-winded, but I do hope that none of you out there mind! Next up, we see how Harry deals with his become a 'she', and what happens after that. 

Also, thank you; **Sakura Le**, **sabriel_chan**, **mc**, **fyre**, **Zaeria**,** Le Cle** (sorry, I don't know how to make the 'e' thing), **spacecatdet**, **Mikee**, **sasha**, **Kateri**, **Phoenix Angel** and **Hippy flower** for reviewing! 

Once again, if you have any questions, feel free to ask! 

~Ephirel~ 


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: All of Harry Potter belongs to Ms. J K Rowling. I am but borrowing the plot, using it to create another story. 

Note: I've edited the previous chapter of the silly mistakes that occured. To all those who've found them offending, sorry! 

Also, this chapter has two small titbits that can be termed '**spoiler alert**' for book 5. Do remember though, this story will most likely **not** be in canon with Ms Rowling's HP. After all, someone's who already dead cannot be dead again in sixth year, ne? Once again, I'm sorry for not going with the book, but I do hope you'd still continue reading. Thanks :) 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

**

In destroying him, I've met my fall 

**

Chapter 3 

Shadows never lie. 

But they aren't entirely intelligent too. 

After his first outburst, Severus Snape tried having his emotions in check as he stalked into the living room, relighting the fireplace with a thought whilst pouring himself a goblet of brandy. He downed it immediately, thankful that it calmed his frazzled nerves quite a bit, and poured another before settling in the couch facing the fire. 

_Where the heck could Potter go?_ That was the question that kept floating in his mind. The boy did not have any other living relatives, and it wasn't likely that he went to the Weasleys. Severus knew that the Gryffindor would never venture there so soon after that Weasley's death. Granger was out of the question too, seeing that she was usually abroad during the holidays, and Potter hated being a bother. 

Being a bother? 

What an irony. 

Sighing, the potions master shook his head of those thoughts, his hands firmly placed on the armrests of the chair. Hoping that he would find the boy soon, the man attempted something not many would dare to try. 

Astral projection. 

With a single command, his soul started separating from his physical shell, melding into the darknes with the ease of breathing. Still, this wasn't something very surprising, seeing as he actually _controlled_ the shadows and darkness as a whole. Through the shadows encompassing virtually the entire world, Severus shifted at an alarming speed, taking only minutes to reach the entirely too muggle-ish home that was colored white (through his eyes only) by the absurd amount of wards placed there for the safety of one foolish boy. 

He was about to slip through the walls and into the rooms when a transparent barrier prevented him from entering. _Strange, Albus' wards should have no control on me..._ Testing the barrier, Severus tried to forcefully enter the house, but a cold feminine voice rang in his head, "_Thou shalt not pass, Shadowmaster._" 

Both baffled and irritated by the voice, Severus pushed his mental barriers further, trying to find any loopholes for him to enter into the house by. Once again, something disrupted his actions... a visage of a pair of silvery-blue eyes appear in his mind, eyes that looked calm but held an air of finality. The same feminine voice sounded once more, this time colder than before, "_Until my young mistress wakes up, you will not enter, Severus Snape. Even if it is due to a promise to my master, get out._" 

With that, the black-haired man was forcefully pulled out of the place and into his body in Hogwarts by some unknown force, one, which puzzled more that angered him. Not having a plan, he just weaved wards to guard over the boy's room, using his memory as a base for the spells. He would heed the voice's command, but until he returned to fetch the boy, he did not want any of the muggles to get hold of the brat Potter, or whatever is in his room. 

Finishing his brandy, Severus Snape made way for his bed, mentally reminding himself to talk to Dumbledore first thing the next morning... 

... After a cup of coffee, of course. 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~~

**Morning**

Harry awoke to a very odd feeling. He felt weaker than he had been before, and all of his bones hurt like hell. Furthermore, it did not help with the fact that he had slept on the floor that night, huddled up like a child. Not surprising, the wounds on his back had cracked due to the posture he was in yesterday night, and most of them were bleeding sluggishly once more, staining his tattered shirt a rusty-red. 

Standing up unsteadily, he felt a slight rustling behind his back - one that felt gentle on his neck - and frowned. _What was that?_ He wondered in confusion. 

He was given the answer very soon though. 

When he had finally stood upright, long, black tresses now fell in front of his chest, that seemed to have swelled slightly overnight. Frowning, he fingered the soft hair, and tried remembering what had happened last night. He had received letters, _gifts_ from the Founders, all of whom had talked of something unknown to him. It had remained as a mystery to him until... 

_Salazar Slytherin's letter._

Slowly, a sense of dread began overtaking him. Trembling, he limped over to the mirror situated inside his wardrobe cupboard, fearing what he might see... 

... One glance at the mirror had him sliding down against the bedpost again. 

Instead of the usual reflection of a ruly-haired boy, with overlarge clothes and a pair of broken spectacles, the mirror now spotted a girl. One, who had long, _straight_ raven locks framing a pale heart-shaped face who looked very shocked. What was once plain features now held aristocratic cheekbones, full lips - though it was a little white - and a straight, slightly upturned nose. The girl looked severely malnutritioned, her green eyes identical to Harry's emerald ones. All these he could have shrugged it off as coincidence. Then, as if the gods had willed it themselves, Harry could not help but glance in horror at the lightning-bolt scar... It just confirmed his worst fear. 

The girl in the mirror was him! 

And she looked eerily like Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor superimposed unto one another. 

"Holy hell..." Harry whispered, dazed beyond belief. He did not want to believe in what he thought was just dreams, but the image he saw made it too real for comfort. He really was the child of Slytherin and Gryffindor... Two _men_ who'd died eons of ages ago! 

Still wrapped in his thoughts, he kept shaking his head, not wanting, not _willing_ to believe that he wasn't the person he thought himself to be. Worst of all, the pounding on the door began... 

"Where is my breakfast?" 

"Open up, you freak!" 

"Boy, you're going to get it from me! _Now get the bloody door **open**_!" 

Uncle Vernon's shouting, combined with the screeching tone evident in aunt Petunia's voice and Dudley's bossy whine, made Harry's mind snap. 

"_SHUT UP!_" Harry screamed aloud, trembling uncontrollably as the rage and despair that was kept shut in his heart went loose. In turn, all the windows shattered into thousands of shards as fragile china, glass, porcelain, and everything that was breakeable cracked. 

The black-haired girl stared in horror as things started floating all over the place, irregardless of size - only his magical items were not in the air. Behind him, the pounding on the door was getting even more relentless. Apparently, the Dursleys were pissed by this sudden show of magic. Scared that his, or her, relatives would start a massacre because of this, Harry tried frantically to bring all the objects down. Nonetheless, his wandless magic did not work on it. 

This frightened him very much, and, trying hard to keep calm, Harry stared at a nearby levitating chair, concentrating hard in an attempt to suppress this outburst of magic... only to cough out blood instead. 

Not being able to stand it anymore, the girl huddled her head in her knees, mumbling hysterically over and over again, "Please, no more. It's enough. Please, _no more_..." 

Perched on the windowsill, unharmed by the shattered glass, Ithil sighed before whistling sharply, a whistle that blocked all noises from outside the room. Mentally, she called out into the air, hoping the shadows would heed her call and bring him here, ::_You'd better come here soon. My mistress's ill._:: 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

**Hogwarts, Headmaster's office**

Albus Dumbledore was a great man. He had survived three reigns of terror, defeated it, and gave hope to the Wizarding World when they needed it the most. He could predict what might happen, true. But still, he wasn't God Almighty, nor would he claim himself anything near Merlin. 

That was why when Severus Snape, potions master of Hogwarts reported that their resident Golden Boy was no longer in his relative's home, he was, for once, at a lost. 

"How did you know?" Albus asked gravely. 

The ancient wizard seemed to have aged quite a lot after the last war, and although he was still fit enough to lead the school, he could no longer bother too much about other personal things - like the separate welfare of his students - given how he had to help rebuild the Wizarding World up once more. 

In fact, he felt guilty to have pushed Harry into the ruthless war against Voldemort when he was only eleven, and of revealing why Voldemort had wanted him dead since young because of a prophecy. Then, when all was finally over, he only managed to make some time off his hectic schedule to visit the boy just before he left for the summer. Also, Poppy had only given him a vague report of the boy's injuries, seemingly hiding something from him, though up till now, he wasn't sure. 

"The shadows said so." Severus replied sourly, mentally cursing his predecessor of disrupting his sleep. Even now, he was still bleary after three cups of strong, bitter black coffee, and his temper was fraying badly. One could only hope that he does not blow up anytime soon... it wasn't something very nice to watch. 

"You called upon them?" Albus asked, alarmed. It was seldom that the man in front of him summoned the shadows, given how it had been a danger for him to do so during Voldemort's reign. The Dark Lord had wanted the Shadowmaster of their era to be bound to him, seeing how that power could easily bring the entire world into darkness - a darkness that held despair and fear. 

This, in turn, had Voldemort sending many of his Death Eaters in search for the fabled master of the shadow elementals, and spells had been put to detect his use of such magic. To make matters worse, all of his supporters had their memories secretly read by the Dark Lord - what with him being a Legilimens and all - to constantly check if they hid information of this from him. Thus, Severus had been _extremely_ careful with this particular trait of his. That was why he seldom called upon it - he even took to learning Occlumency from Dumbledore, who was very much impressed by his ability to do it within a month - and did everything with simple wand, or when the situation permits, wandless magic. Even after Voldemort's first demise, the potions master had refrained from using it, so it had come as a surprise for the Headmaster for him to use it suddenly. 

"Yes," Severus replied absently, "It had been a promise to a... friend." 

"Friend?" The Headmaster asked, his curiosity piqued. Severus, noticing this, gave him a white eye, "Oh all right. Salazar Slytherin asked it of me. A promise made between Shadowmasters." 

"But why?" Albus wondered aloud. It was true that such promises were sacred, and though it hadn't been that well-known a fact, Salazar Slytherin too, had been a Shadowmaster _and_ a Waterbearer - being both the master of shadows, and of the waters. 

In every generation since the beginning of time, a master of each element - light, darkness, water, earth, fire and wind - would emerge. Legend spoke of how they held the fragile balance of nature together, that they bear ultimate control over the elements. These mages were chosen by birth, fabled for their dedication to the elements, keeping them, and nature, in order. 

Seldom was it that one would be master of two elements, but Salazar Slytherin had been one of the few with enough power to balance two, which was why he was so revered by many in his time. Since then, the ability to converse with the elemental masters of each generation was enabled by the Founder and his lifebonded's research, and this brought about much ease in ruling the elements, since they could ask of help from their predecessors if need be. 

Another piece of trivia lost to time was that since the era of the Founders, there hadn't been a Waterbearer - the master of the waters - or a Lightbringer - the master of light. The reasons were still unknown, which was why Dark times kept surfacing through history. The lack of a Waterbearer could be made up by the few Water elemental mages that pop up through time, but a Lightbringer was _vital_ to keep good and evil in balance, despite the Light elemental mages that struggled to keep order in equilibrium. 

Hell, if it had not been Albus Dumbledore who kept the light in balance with his abilities, it would not be surprising if Darkness had ruled the lands since Grindelwald's time. 

"I don't know." The Shadowmaster replied honestly, "Lord Slytherin just wanted me to look after... Potter until he came. Don't look at me like that, Albus. I do _not_ know what he means." Wisely, he had excluded Salazar's mentioning of 'Sandrilene' - whoever she was - and of how sad the man had been when he had spoken of her. 

"So, I had the shadows go check on that br... boy, but they said he's gone." Severus continued smoothly, mentally wondering about the voice that had sounded in his head. Turning his thoughts back to the problem at hand, he asked, "I was hoping if you'd come along with me. Gods accursed, Albus, you _do_ know that I am not an eloquent speaker..." 

Hearing this, Dumbledore chuckled. It was true that Severus wasn't a good speaker. The black-haired man had the knack of glaring at a person to make him feel uncomfortable, and his words could make a grown-up man cry for his mother. 

No doubt he'd scare the Dursleys even before he speak. 

The potions master just ignored his mentor's laugh, resuming from where he had trailed off, "You could perhaps check if any of the spells had been tampered with. I _do_ know that there are more wards than what you've placed previously." 

Now this caught the elderly wizard's attention. The amount of spells he had placed there was enough to rival the ones in Hogwarts - it only lacked an anti-apparation ward - and one would be mad to add some more. Of course, Severus knew it too, and silently agreed. One really must be _mad_ to try adding some more protective spells to that house. 

Opening his mouth ask the Headmaster should any other people be made privy of this information, he shut it immediately when a familiar voice entered his head. This time though, it was tinged with worry. 

::_You'd better come here soon. My mistress's ill._:: 

Shocked by the words, the potions master had Albus Dumbledore pulled out of his chair in no time flat as they made way for 4 Privet Drive, knowing that the situation has gone from bad to worse. 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

To say that they were surprised would have been an understatement. 

By the time they had apparated into Privet Drive and entered the house after taking down several wards, Severus Snape felt his jaw slack at the amount of things floating and moving around the muggle flat. Dumbledore too, could be seen surprised by the 'flying' show - it took a lot of raw power to keep everything levitating and moving around. Waving his wand, the wizened man muttered, "_Finite_." 

To his disconcertment, the furniture did not cease their moving, but kept on with their reckless routes about the house. Turning over to stare at Severus, who too, could not believe that the spell hadn't worked, shouted, "_Immobilius_!" 

The objects just continued moving, as if nothing had happened. Frowning, both man tried using wandless magic instead, hoping against hope that _this_ might do the trick. Alas, it was as good as throwing an egg against a stone wall. This bothered the two men very much. Not surprising, both are excellent wizards in terms of magical abilities, and yet, their combined wandless magic could not stop the objects from floating. 

Sighing, Dumbledore knew defeat when he saw it, and signalled for his colleague to go upstairs with him instead. Apparently, the Dursleys were now shouting so loudly that their voices could be heard despite the din of clattering metal and wood. 

As expected, Vernon Dursley was pounding on a door that had a huge padlock on it. The lock had been opened of course, but it seemed that the fat muggle could not enter it, hence his brawlings, "_Get out! You **freak**!_" Petunia Dursley too, could be seen scratching against the hardwood door, screaming, "Stop those furniture _now_" Dudley just hid at a corner, not daring to go anywhere near the floating electronics. 

Severus smirked at the scene, but resumed an impassive facade immediately after that, his voice silky with mocking, "Is there a problem with that door?' 

His words made all three muggles jump, and, on seeing their robes, had Vernon turning a purple that matched Dumbledore's robes perfectly. 

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" The overbloated piece of flesh growled as Petunia hurriedly shielded Dudley from them, fearing that her baby might get hurt again. Dumbledore, polite as ever, asked courteously, "We've come for Harry, Mr. Dursley." Having said that, the wizard asked once more, "Was he in there last night?" 

"Of course he was!" Petunia squeaked at having to reply to the man her sister had termed 'the most powerful wizard alive' sixteen years ago. Vernon, however, butted in and pointed his finger at Dumbledore's beard, yelling, "Freaks! He locked the bloody door with m - mag - ah! With you-know-what! Get that boy out of there! I'll kill him!" 

He did not seem to be joking about that, seeing as there was a pistol at the back of his pocket. Severus, noticing this offending piece of metal, yawned lazily, "_Accio revolver._" 

The gun was immediately brought to the potions master hand, where he - with a certain amount of glee - had it levitating off his hand before the metal was consumed in flames, burning heartily. The Dursleys paled at this blatent display of magic, and Dumbledore tried to placate the family whilst Severus ignored the muggles' ogling, murmuring softly to the door, "I am here." 

Somewhere in his mind, the black-haired man felt someone smile at his words, and a bright light emanated from the door, suffusing the air with a pearly glow. Everything the pearly glow touched fell to the ground once more, placed back in its original position whilst broken china and window shards repaired themselves fast that anyone could say _reparo_. Most importantly, it had shut the Dursleys up, and the wards that once guarded the room dissolved into nothingness due to the enormity of the phoenix's power. 

::_I've been waiting_.:: The voice sounded once more, this time in the minds of both wizards present. 

As the light died down, Severus and Dumbledore saw a girl crouching by the bed, with a snowy owl and a supposedly extinct species of phoenix perched on the open windowsill. The girl's face was covered by the long raven tresses, but both wizards could hear the soft mumbling that sounded from her. The girl didn't look too well too. The loose pants and tattered shirt spotted red stains. Rusty, dull red stains whose source no doubt had brought about the metallic tang in the air. Arms that were hugging her knees so desperately held red welts and whip marks, ones that left Snape cold. 

No child deserved that. It reminded him of his past, and that was more than enough to bring the already incensed potions master into a full bout of fury. 

Vernon Dursley, who had previously been blocked by the two shocked wizards, jostled into the room, pulling Petunia and Dudley with him as he shouted angrily, "_Boy! You get this for wrecking the house, and doing what you, you **freaks** do!_" 

The man had pulled Harry up by the collar to face him, but blinded by anger, did not really see the change in the boy... or girl. He was about to slam his meaty fist into the girl's face when Severus wrenched his arm aside, roaring in fury, "Can't you see that it's a girl?" 

Severus's words had Vernon dumbfounded and in pain within seconds - the potions master's deathgrip on Vernon's wrist was so strong that the brainless muggle was convinced that his bones were already broken. Petunia, scared that the black-haired man in front of him might attack her too, asked the girl nervously, "Who are you?" 

The five people looked on anxiously, wondering who it was that had entered into Harry's room so early in the morning. The girl, who had fallen when Dursley hold on her had loosened, looked up at the adults present, not noticing the sudden intake of breath by everyone present. The girl's face was a beauty to behold, though bruises marred her perfect, pale complexion. A heart-shaped face, framed by long black locks which was also covering her forehead (messily as of current), held features that were unmistakably aristocratic - there was no doubt to anyone that she was noble-born. However, the look of her face held despair... 

As she slowly glanced past the adults, her blank emerald eyes settled at Severus' oynx ones, the lost look that was held by few made his heart wrench. 

It was the look of desolation that one would only possess should they witness the lost of one's kin, or the sick realisation that one wasn't what he thought himself to be. He himself had been victim of such anguish before, and it hadn't been just once. 

However, that became the last thing in his mind when Severus finally understood why he'd found her face so familiar. He had seen those features before, but on another two other people. 

"Sandrilene?" 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

**End of Chapter 3**

::Grins:: I've gotten this out earlier than I thought! Most of it is due to the sudden hyper-activity that was caused by my knowing that Order of Phoenix would be out soon. Then, when I finally finished reading the book, I just _had_ to get this out before I scream. 

Can blame me though, I kept giggling from midnight to four-thirty in the morning, while reading the book leading to 'Snape's Worst Memory'. I knew I had to stop there and get a rest, seeing as I'm doing a reading for mass this morning at 11. 

After reading the book, I kept wailing to everyone at home about why _he_ had to die! I kept moaning, and screaming (talk about mad) until my aunt started matter-of-factly, "Dear, it's _just_ a book. No need to get all upset over it." 

Down to earth as always, now, that's my aunt for ya! But I must say, _I **still** cannot believe that he died_! On the other hand, Ms. Rowling has really done well for this book, and I applaud her for it! This three-year wait was definitely worth it! Problem is, I can't wait for the next book to be out! But once I think of the long wait, I can't help but groan... Grace... I need some more fanfiction to fill up the blank hole in my heart that's thirsting for more Harry Potter. Any recommendations? 

Okay, dawdling aside, I'd like to thank: **Kateri**, **Fallen Dragon**, **Nikcole**, **Jen**, **Jewelclaw Lady of Wind**, **Midnight-Kisses**, **anon**, **Zaeria**, **Grrrinnning Golden Retriever**, **Cricket**, **VB**, **Sakura Le**, **ZetaStar**, **myrddin_ambrosius** and **shakiya** for reviewing. A big THANKS for supporting this fic! 

So, until next time, when Harry/Sandrilene gets back to Hogwarts, bai bai! 

Ephirel 


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer**: All of Harry Potter belongs to Ms. J K Rowling. I am but borrowing the plot, using it to create another story. 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

**

In destroying him, I've met my fall 

**

Chapter 4 

"Sandrilene?" 

The familiar voice, now tinged with blatant incredulity, had the glassy look in Harry's eyes turn focused once more. Confused and frightened, the girl answered uncertainly, "Professor?" 

Now that her senses had returned her, the presence of the Dursleys had her trembling in fear. Indeed, she had all the reason to be terrified by them, she had done the one thing that was forbidden in this house and was caught for it - magic. And it was a series of strong magic, no less. Unconsciously, she shrank further into her corner of the room, and this had the Dursleys glaring at the girl even heatedly. However, the potions master shot the muggles an icy glare that had them reverting their stares and shuffle their feet in unease. 

Returning his gaze back to the black-haired girl, Severus frowned darkly at the numerous welts branded on her arms whilst Dumbledore remained stunned by the name his colleague had announced, and the girl seemingly admit. Sandrilene wasn't a common name, and the only time he had heard, or actually seen it was… 

"What did your family do to her?" Severs snarled, carefully walking towards the girl and taking her in his arms. Her trembling aside, the way she shrank away from his embrace spoke volumes, and it was an action he worried. No… he did not like it at all. 

The black-haired man's outrage snapped Dumbledore out of his reverie, and on looking at the girl's injuries, he too, became furious. Sapphire eyes turning cold, he started in a deceptively calm tone, "Mrs. Dursley, I do not remember your family to be abusive to children." 

His voice, so filled with power, had all three Dursleys shrinking away in fear. Shaking violently, Petunia Dursley answered, "But Mr. Dumbledore, I've never seen this girl before?" 

Glowering, Severus 'looked' into the wounds with his magic, inspecting its source critically, inwardly astounded by the amount of pain the young child had endured, and yet, lived through without entering a hospital. Finally, he answered, obsidian eyes cold, "Most of this whip marks are by your hands, Dursley." 

With that, he walked over to the fat man, growling, "And they have been accumulated through time…" Here, the potions master drew out his wand, asking silkily, "Now, give me a reason why I shouldn't hex you to oblivion?" 

"I-I've never seen her be…" Vernon Dursley trailed off, feeling the accusations to be ridiculous when he had never even seen the girl before they came. He had only hit one child under this roof, and it had been Harry Potter. Glancing over at the girl's broken wrist that was held together by a dirty torn cloth, he scowled, realizing who the 'girl' was. Infuriated by how the child had tricked him, the man barked, "Why you cheeky little…" 

"_Silencio_." Severus growled, not being able to stand the muggle anymore. Moving over, he was about to hit the man when the same feminine voice sounded once more in all their heads. 

"_Enough shadowmaster. My mistress needs tending to **now**._" 

Her words, so filled with power, stopped the two men immediately. Dumbledore, knowing whom had spoken, bowed slightly at the source before lifting the wards within Privet Drive, seeing as it was no longer required. Then, he hurriedly directed Severus to carry the girl, much to the displeasure of said man. However, when the potions master faced Sandrilene, his expression had softened very much, "Come, let's get you to Hogwarts." 

With that, he was about to scoop the girl into his arms when Harry stopped him, "Please sir, my things…" 

"Does the owl know where it is?" Severus asked. 

"Yes." 

"Then Albus will take care of them. You need to see Poppy now." 

His words silenced Harry, and in compliance, she allowed herself to rest against the potions master's chest. As Severus stood up, he frowned, not particularly pleased with how light the girl was. 

_What had those muggles been feeding her?_

Enscounced in the warm embrace, Harry felt the phoenix sing another soothing lullaby. In those arms, so firm and comforting, the girl felt safer than she had for years… and the lullaby served its purpose effectively. 

She fell asleep. 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

_"She's woken, Godric." Helga murmured, amber eyes glazed as her focus slowly returned to the roaring fire. Godric, who had been lying on Salazar's lap by the fireplace, got up immediately, stunned by the sudden announcement. It was a revelation that the three remaining founders had waited for sixteen years, and Salazar demanded anxiously, "Sandry has inherited our powers?" _

"Yes." 

"Godric. Let's go!" 

"Salazar, at least allow her rest until she reaches Hogwarts. Her health isn't exactly stable." 

Her words had all of them tensed in a split second. Helga Hufflepuff sighed at the shocked faces, feeling as helpless as them at this very moment. Not surprising, they had been waiting for five years to get in contact with the child, and now, the first news she had been able to see was of Sandrilene's ill health. 

"Do not tell me that those muggles actually hit her?" Godric questioned the blond woman, his voice turning colder with every second. heat started to gather around his hands, and a bright light started to emanate from the man's powerful form. Helga, noticing the surge of light energy, starting in a warning tone, "Godric, your powers." 

Her words startled the fuming man out of his anger, and apologetically, he shielded his abilities, his hold on his lifebonded never loosening. Not surprising, Salazar hadn't exactly been controlled when dealing with anything associated with Sandrilene, and this recent news was inciting much anger from the powerful wizard. Indeed, Salazar was living, but his outward appearance betrayed none of his fury, save those emerald orbs - they had become chips of iced jade. 

Rowena Ravenclaw, noticing the man's stiff posture, walked over to face him, murmuring gently, "Salazar, please, look at me." 

Her voice felt hypnotic, and Salazar could not help but turn to gaze into sapphire eyes that were starting to turn bluish-green. Godric too, relaxed on noticing that Rowena was extending her healing magic to Salazar again. A natural healer since young, Rowena was considered the most powerful healer of their era. Taking similar pale hands into her own, the black-haired sorcerer spoke, "Brother, she'll be all right. I trust the Headmaster of her time to take care of things, as well as that shadowmaster whom you've spoken highly of." 

Tendrils of wind magic drifted from Rowena to Salazar as she spoke, and in its wake came calmness that soothed the tensed man inexplicably. Turning her gaze towards Godric, she continued, "You too, Godric. Furthermore, I'll be going over to see her first, won't I, Helga?" 

"Yes, Rowena. I should be able to send your spirit there for only a few moments. But it should allow you to heal Sandrilene." Helga smiled, though inwardly, she knew that she would exhaust her powers for at least a few days after she finished the spell. 

After all, despite being the master of time, traveling through thousands of years is still a forbidden task. Still, she knew that Rowena is the best healer to ever grace Gaia's world, and her help would definitely speed up the healing of their niece's condition. 

With a wave of her hand, Rowena Ravenclaw disappeared from the Founders' suite, leaving two anxious parents to pace the room bare, and a Helga Hufflepuff who was glowing purple… 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

**Hogwarts, Hospital Wing**

Madam Pomfrey, medi-witch of Hogwarts, was busy scolding a blond boy who had tried sneaking out of the hospital wing when he ought to be resting now that most of his injuries had finally healed. After the last war, many students had entered into the hospital wing for injuries of all kinds, released only when the holidays commenced. This boy, however, was one of only two whose injuries deemed too major for the medi-witch to allow for their discharge. Still, this boy was one of the most uncooperative student she ever had the misfortune to meet, and she had to _force-feed _him dreamless sleep to keep him in bed. 

And this was how Severus Snape found the medi-witch, half slouched against the hospital bed after finally making the blonde sleep. Despite the somber situation he was in, the potions master could not help but chuckle, "He gave another struggle?" 

The rich baritone startled Poppy out of her short rest, and on seeing who it was, complained exasperatedly, "He's getting too agile for me. I had to hex him before force-feeding him dreamless sleep!" 

Her words had the professor arch an eyebrow, but before he could give any comment, the medi-witch noticed the burden in his hands and gasped, "What happened?" 

Walking over to Poppy, who beckoned him to place the girl next in the bed next to the blonde, he answered, "We found her like this in the hands of a bunch of muggles." 

He did not give any specifics, knowing that it would blow up the entire matter. Poppy, on the other hand, was already outraged enough by what the muggles had done to the young girl. The injuries she spotted aren't light, and what skin she could see were marred by welts and bruises of varying sizes. The only portion of her exposed skin that wasn't as badly hurt was her face, and already, there were quite a few colored bruises on her face, all in different stages of healing. 

And that was apart from the severe malnutrition that was obvious in the girl's gaunt features, and the broken bones she could see with her naked eye. No doubt the internal injuries were worse. Chilled by what she had seen, Poppy whispered, tears starting to gather in her eyes, "Merlin's beard… How could they do this to her?" 

"I have no idea, Poppy…" The potions master replied bleakly, equally upset by the fact that someone had tried to abuse a child - a girl no less - to such an extent. Gathering his thoughts, he continued, "I have to go see Albus. Can you help heal her?" 

"Of course!" The medi-witch wiped tears from her eyes as grim determination set in, "She's in worse form than young Harry when he was brought in after the last battle…" _And I had actually been unable to heal his heart._Those words were never spoken out loud. She wisely kept it to herself, knowing that the potions master would only express disgust at the idea of healing the boy's heart. She knew of Severus's dislike for the boy-who-lived, though the reason still seemed ridiculous to her. Then, despite the fact that Severus had actually mellowed towards the boy in the past two years, he was still too stubborn to admit it, and Poppy wasn't one to tear away the man's façade. 

"Please heal her as best as possible." The black-haired man spoke quietly, surprising Pomfrey greatly. Severus was seldom kind to anyone but his Slytherins, and this girl doesn't seem to be a Slytherin. Nodding her head, she gave her silent assent, and the potions master went out of the wing. 

With the hospital wing entirely to herself, Poppy Pomfrey hurriedly grabbed vials of potions from her cabinet before going back to the sleeping girl's bed. Even in her sleep, she tossed and turned restlessly, her distressed whimpers indicating that she was experiencing a nightmare. Sighing, the medi-witch fed the child a few drops of dreamless sleep and a numbing potion before examining her injuries. 

The diagnosis wasn't good. 

Apart from the numerous welts, the girl sustained several broken ribs, a fractured wrist, dislocations on her left ankle and right knee, and a back of slashes that were still bleeding. Her back, full of criss-crossed lashing had Poppy pained, but it was her punctured kidney and gut that had her fretting. It was a miracle that the child was still alive, and the medi-witch was about to lift her wand to perform a complex healing spell when a pale, slender hand touched her wrist, causing her to jump. 

"What in Dilys' name…?" Poppy muttered in irritation at whoever had interrupted her work. She was about to give the person a thorough lashing when she stopped, mouth agape at the lovely woman in front of her. The black-haired lady just gave a slight smile, and Pomfrey murmured in a daze, "It can't be… I must be going mad… Lady Ravenclaw?" 

"Hello, Madam Pomfrey, is it?" Rowena asked politely, her gaze level and calm. Poppy gasped, shocked to see the most revered Healer in front of her, conversing to her no less! Confused, the medi-witch muttered, "It can't be. You're dead for thousands of years!" 

"I've been sent here to help heal Sandrilene." The Founder replied softly, turning to see her niece, now sound asleep. Through her magic, she could map out the entirety of her injuries, and what she saw wasn't comforting. _How could the muggles do this to Sandry?_ She was enraged, and had the right to. This was far beyond abuse - it was almost an attempt for murder. 

"Madam Pomfrey, can you help me heal her external injuries? I'll take care of the internal injuries and broken bones." 

Her words, despite being an inquiry, was so filled with authority that the medi-witch agree immediately. In silence, Poppy went about doing her job, first helping the girl out of her tattered clothes before muttering a string of healing spells that had the welts healing rapidly. Rowena smiled at her comrade's efficiency and placed her hands above the girl's chest. It glowed a warm golden, and through her mage gift, she 'saw' the bones begin to heal. First marrow, then muscles began knitting together in a rapid pace, and it took but a few minutes for all seven ribs to heal to their original state. 

Her manner of healing had Madam Pomfrey shocked, but she quickly recovered to return to her task at hand - the child's back. Muttering a levitation spell, she had the girl floating at turned sideways as she placed healing spells on the child's back, inwardly reminded that the scars like eerily similar to a person she had healed before. Rowena just continued on healing the broken, fractured and dislocated bones, all the time muttering about how Salazar and Godric was going to kill the muggles responsible for this. 

By the time Poppy had finished with Sandry's back, Rowena had left but one more task ahead of her. Motioning the medi-witch to place the girl in a comfortable position, she murmured an arcane spell that the medi-witch could not understand, and magicked a needle before pulling a strand of hair from her crown of black tresses, and looping it into the needle. 

Then, the most shocking thing happened. 

Rowena's hand submerged itself into Sandrilene's abdomen, and the Founder started stitching the punctured organs back, infusing her magic along with the hair to strengthen its healing. The entire process took almost ten minutes before the whole process was done, and the woman had not a drop of blood in those pale hands. 

"There. This should do it." Rowena murmured in relief when it was finally done. Madam Pomfrey, who had gaped at the surgery of sorts, asked in shock, "Lady Ravenclaw, how did you do that?" 

"It is a magic that was passed down from my mother. No doubt you've never seen it in action." The lady replied, somewhat amused by the medi-witch's look of astonishment. 

"But why not use magic instead?" 

"It won't heal as well as this. Magic at times has its flaws." The black-haired Founder whispered, kissing the pale girl on the cheek. Turning back to the still-dazed medi-witch, she started, "Please look after Sandry. Her health hadn't been good since the last war." 

"Don't worry. I won't let her out of the wing until she's fit enough to walk about." Poppy gave her promise, knowing that Lady Ravenclaw was truly worried about the child. 

_Rowena, I have to take you back now._

The familiar voice had Rowena sighing. _Give me another minute._

_All right. But I cannot hold on to you after that._

_Thank you._

Walking over to the next bed, she gave a gentle smile at the sleeping boy. Brushing his bangs aside, the lady kissed his forehead, relieved that he was almost well. Turning to see Madam Pomfrey for the last time, she murmured, "Thank you for looking after him so well." 

With that, she dissolved into nothingness, disappearing entirely from the hospital wing. Poppy Pomfrey stared at the empty place where Lady Ravenclaw had stood, rubbing her eyes, wondering if she had been dreaming. A glance at the sleeping girl, who looked much better than when she first came in, told her that it had not been a dream. 

Rowena Ravenclaw had been _present _in this room! 

Shaking her head at the experience, she went over to the young girl who had been the reason for the Lady's appearance. _How did Lady Ravenclaw know her, and my name?_ This thought kept surfacing in her mind until she walked over to her office, placing that thought in the pensieve. 

Feeling lighter, she went back to the girl's bed, still pained for what she had suffered through. In a maternal manner, she patted the girl's soft locks, absently brushing the young girl's messy bangs from her forehead… 

And stopped short at what it revealed. 

_No… It can't be!_

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

**Hogwarts, Headmaster's office**

Albus Dumbledore was pacing around his office, a rare occurrence that had all the headmasters' portraits looking at him in an amused manner. Several of them were looking at the wizened mage in a quizzical manner, puzzled by what had the calm wizard this troubled. Dumbledore however, ignored the ex-headmasters' gazes, mind poring through what had happened earlier on… 

The ice phoenix had brought him to the cupboard under the stairs to gather her mistresses things. She had commented that Harry Potter had lived in that small space for his entire childhood, being forced to do household chores since young, and that had him shaken very badly. He never knew of this, and the sudden revelation of how the child of James and Lily Potter had to stay in such a dingy place, and be a virtual slave for his relatives, had him shocked to the core. 

He had always been sure that his decisions would help, but now, he was starting to regret having placed Harry Potter with the Dursleys… Then, he had taken out Harry's diary and small stash of food, and _knew_ that the boy had mistreated even after the Order's warning to the Dursleys at the end of Harry's fifth year… 

The phoenix had trilled a note, and all of Harry's luggage, along with Sandrilene's trunk*, had disappeared, leaving him to apparate back to the edge of Hogwarts anti-apparation wards with a heavy heart. 

So depressed was he that he failed to hear the door opening to bring in an equally somber Severus Snape. 

"Albus." Severus started quietly, inwardly surprised by the headmaster's action. Dumbledore, hearing his young colleague's voice, gave a strained smile, "Severus. How is the child?" 

"Poppy is tending to her. She'll be fine." The potions master replied quietly. Somehow, he felt the urge to reassure the headmaster of Sandrilene's health, for this was the first time he'd actually seen Dumbledore this distracted, and worried. Sitting heavily into his seat, Dumbledore asked, "How did you know her name, Severus?" 

"Her?" Severus echoed, not surprised that this was the headmaster's first query. Still, he sighed, "Slytherin had wanted me to look after Sandrilene, but never said why. I had asked him who she was, but he diverted the subject entirely, asking me to look after Harry instead. As for why I know it's her, she looks like Gryffindor and Slytherin superimposed unto one another…" 

"Sandrilene?" Armando Dippet interrupted, as did Phineas Black. Everard just glared at the two headmasters, though he did speak aloud, "Is he referring to the same Sandrilene I suspect?" 

"Yes, he is." Dumbledore answered quietly, knowing that the room will be filled with babbles now that he had given them the confirmation they need. 

"But it can't be!" 

"She should be dead by now!" 

"Merlin's beard! The child would shock the entire Wizarding world!" 

"It's not possible. There's no way she could have entered this time." 

"But Dippet, Albus had said that it's her!" 

As expected, the office _did_ become a place where a gossipmonger would love entering, and Dumbledore sighed, motioning for the younger man to enter into his private sanctum. 

In the headmaster's lounge, Severus felt calmer, having been confused by the sudden chatter of the previous headmasters. They seldom become this noisy even when they were alone, and the excited undertone of their voices puzzled him even more. Dumbledore, noticing his puzzlement, gestured him towards a large, covered portrait. Giving a sad smile, he muttered, "_Revelo._" 

As the velvet cover tied itself to its side, a sunny portrait revealed itself, and Severus could not help but suck in his breath. It was a beautiful, hand-painted portrait of Salazar and Godric playing with a young girl who looked remarkably like Sandrilene. The colors used were bright, and had the aura of joy emanating from it. The family were laughing as Sandrilene was raised high by Godric, whilst Salazar looked on, a smile playing on his handsome features. The painting was done muggle-style, and thus, did not move, but it did capture that particular moment of happiness, and Severus had to give it to the artist who painted it - he definitely had talent. 

Seeing the potions master's look of awe, Dumbledore spoke up quietly, "This was drawn from imagination by Helga Hufflepuff. Somehow, she was able to portray it so well that all of the headmasters of Hogwarts - and now you, are attracted very much to the picture, especially the young child, Sandrilene. She's the first child to be born in Hogwarts, and the supposed heir of this castle." 

"How did you…" 

"Know this?" Dumbledore chuckled, "The explanation, by Lady Hufflepuff, is written behind the portrait. And no, Severus. Only the next headmaster of Hogwarts is permitted to read it." 

Severus grimaced a little at the teasing, but made no move to read it though he was truly curious of what Lady Hufflepuff had written. As he stared at the smiling faces, he realized that despite the smile, sadness still lurked in Salazar Slytherin's eyes. He wondered why this could be so when Lady Hufflepuff should have known how happy Salazar would be of playing with his child. However, he was not given a chance to further his thoughts, for Madam Pomfrey's head popped in from the nearby fireplace. 

"Albus, ah Severus, you're here too. Can both of you come to the hospital wing now? It's rather urgent." The medi-witch looked preoccupied as she disappeared from the fire, and both men dreaded what might have happened. Tossing floo powder into the cavernous fireplace, Severus went through the floo network first, followed by Albus, both of whom were worried about the girl. 

"What is it, Poppy?" Albus asked the medi-witch. Poppy was seldom this distracted, and only when the situations were dire would she become this lost in thought. Leading the two wizards over to the bed, Madam Pomfrey muttered, "I should _not_ have let him out of my sight should I've known what would happen when he got back." 

"I beg your pardon?" Severus interrupted silkily, unable to comprehend the witch's words. Poppy, however, just continued tutting, "I'm such a fool. I should've known that he'd do anything to get out of here." 

This time, it was Dumbledore who questioned the nurse, "Poppy, what are you talking about?" 

"This!" The medi-witch exclaimed angrily, gesturing to the sleeping girl. Glancing at her, both men could not understand how an unconscious girl could have angered the witch, and looked at Poppy in question. Their looks had Poppy muttering swearing about ignorant men under her breath as she gently lifted the girl's bangs to reveal a familiar lightning-bolt scar. 

Stunned, both headmaster and potions master of Hogwarts gaped at the scar in disbelief. 

"Harry?" 

~~@~~@~~@~~@~~@~~

End of chapter 4

Phew! I've finally gotten this chapter out! Sorry about the long wait, but my A's are coming, and my results haven't exactly been good, so I'm kinda stuck with revising for the science subs. They're killer! 

Rest assured though, I **will** finish the story. It'll be slow, but I'll finish it _somehow_. Also, about the trunks, Dumbledore doesn't know that Harry's trunks and Sandrilene's trunks are all owned by the same person, thus the differentiation. 

Well, this note will be short, but I'd truly like to thank all of you who've actually reviewed! I'll be putting up a review note soon... I'm sorry, but my sis's complaining about my hogging the PC, and I have to end now if I wish to post this up immediately. So, until next time... 

Ephirel


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** All of Harry Potter belongs to Ms. J K Rowling. I am but borrowing the plot, using it to create another story. 

**In defeating him, I've met my Fall **

Chapter 5 

~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~ 

__

"What do you mean she no longer exists?" Salazar yelled, his emerald eyes ablaze with panic. Behind him, Godric held the man firmly in his embrace, he too, disbelieving what his sister had just said. For the past six months, all four Founders had placed all sorts of tracking spells around the entire bloody map of the world, both magical and muggle alike. Hell, they'd even had the elvish settlements in their country covered, but all of them yielded no results. 

For the first time in history, all four Founders looked more than haggard, especially Helga Hufflepuff. Not surprising, even despite her being a seer, reaching into the innermost depth of her magic to search for her only niece wasn't something to be done daily for half a year. That, along with juggling her duties as divination mistress, herbology professor, and head of Hufflepuff house had made her more frail than ever. 

Biting back the urge to sigh, Helga settled heavily into the nearest seat by the fire, rubbing her arms tiredly. Despite bit being spring, her discovery of Sandrilene's whereabouts left her cold, and she was still reeling from the finding that the Gods had oh so **kindly** bestowed upon her. She had known earlier on that it was impossible for their spells to go wrong, and since their tracking charms encompassed even the unplottable lands, there had only been one answer - that Sandrilene was no longer in their plane of existance. This was but a vague prediction that the Founder never dared tell the distraught parents, which was why she delved into the other worlds without the others' knowledge. No one, not even Salazar, would agree to this dangerous act. Yet she wanted to know. No, she **needed** to get to the bottom of why Sandrilene had just disappeared into thin air. 

As that fateful day replayed itself in her mind, the blond lady felt her heart wrench in painfully... It had been all Hallow's Eve, and Hogwarts was having a grand ball to celebrate the feast of souls. It had been a beautiful, starless night - the night where shadows reigned free, and even Salazar Slytherin, Shadowmaster of their generation, held no power over them. 

In the Founders' Suite, both Rowena and her had dressed Sandrilene in a silky-white dress with a jade green overobe whilst Godric clumsily weaved white roses into his child's smooth hair. Salazar just smiled on indulgently, watching the others busy themselves over his daughter's appearances for the night. Once done, Sandrilene had launched into her father's arms, squealing in delight as Salazar showered her with all sorts of sweets. These Godric had swept up and placed in a small, white pouch that would hold endless items - seeing as the students loved showering the youngest resident of Hogwarts with all sorts of nonsense - for Sandrilene to carry as they slowly made way for the Great Hall. 

As expected, the students and professors alike did shower the child with loads of sweets and goodies, and this had Sandrilene smiling happily by the time she went back to where the Founders were seated by the corner of the Hall - all the tables, including the Head Table, had been magicked away to make way for ballroom dancing. Beaming at them, the raven-haired child had then childishly stuffed handfuls of sweets into each of her aunts robes' pockets before pushing the remaining bag of sweets into her fathers interlinked hands, only taking a small candy to suck on once in a while... 

All was well then... But disaster just **had** to strike. 

Exactly at midnight, when Sandrilene was giving her father Salazar a peck before allowing Rowena to bring her to sleep, the young girl just dissolved in front of all of their eyes. And by dissolved, it meant disappearing into nothingness - only her clothes, and those white roses remained. 

This had raised chaos within Hogwarts that very night. All the residents of Hogwarts had carried out a full scale search for the young child, virtually flipping the castle downside up, but not one sight of Sandrilene could be seen. It was only till sunrise did Helga stop the search and ordered the still-searching students to rest. The professors, however, continued on till night time when all of them went exhausted... 

Amber eyes dimmed dangerouly as Helga remembered how and _why_ Sandrilene was gone. As shocked as she was by the daring of the instigators, the person she could not forgive was that pompous... **halfblood.** Images of a couple still ingered at the back of her mind - of a messy-haired man shouting for his wife to run, of how a red-haired woman held on desperately to her child, and of how a sickly, greenish light hit her. A dark-haired man dressed in a black cloak stood in front of the woman, kicking her aside as he muttered a familiar curse a the infant. Surprisingly, the curse rebounded back at the surprised wizard, and at the latter's death, and child cried. However, he wasn't the child he used to be - he now contained Sandrilene's soul. As to why? 

"The shadows have taken her to another era. So in essence, Sandry no longer exists in our time." Helga replied in fatigue, more upset than ever. Beside her, Rowena stiffened at the implication, and both Godric and Salazar paled. 

"The shadows?" The dark-haired mage asked in disbelief. 

"Yes. A group of them transferred Sandry's soul there in the belief that she might help in the defeat of a certain... **dark wizard**." The last words were almost spat out, and Helga looked morethan angry. Turning smouldering eyes towards her brother-in-law, though her anger she continued angrily, "And that bastard thought himself to be your heir." 

~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~

"The shadows?" Severus murmured aloud, startling his companions from the looming silence. Both Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall, as well as the potions master himself were on their way to seeing Harry, and now that the depuy headmistress had been briefed of Harry's... _change_, all three of them had walked in comfortable silence until Severus uttered those two words. 

"What of the shadows?" Dumbledore asked, knowing that his previous ward, and now, a good friend, had been in a trance ever since they had left his ofice. Minerva too, had recognized it, hence her not persisting to ask the questions that now filled her mind. Beside her, Severus just shook his head, "nothing." 

He had no wish to give away his recent discovery, not that he was selfish whatsoever, but he still did not understand how the shadows managed to pull such a feat, and to disclose the truth without all its details isn't exactly what the potions master liked doing. So for now, it was best to keep this memory aside for further pondering. Understanding as ever, Dumbledore left the subject to rest, as did Minerva, who opened the door to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey, who had been busying herself with the restocking of her cabinets, nodded tersely at the trio, gesturing them to go over and check on their new patient without a word exchanged. 

After the initial outburst yesterday, the mediwitch had been in a rather melancholy mood, for she felt herself to be blamed for Harry's current condition. He hadn't been totally healed then, but the boy's - now girl's - puppy eyes had made her go against her better judgement to ward her for the summer. _And look what this resulted...?_ Pomfrey thought bitterly, carefully taking five vials from her cache as she walked over to Harry's bed. 

Quietly, she placed four of the potions into Severus's hands, voice surprisingly soft, "Severus, let Harry take these when she up." 

Then, placing the fifth vial - the smallest one containing dreamless sleep - onto the end table, she continued, "Let her take this only when you see fit. I'd like to check on Virginia." 

Said man agreed readily, and the mediwitch left the room to allow the three professors some private time once more. Examining the potions, Severus was mildly alarmed to see a strong pain reliever present in the four vials, as well as a dark vial of precious healing potion that held phoenix tears as its potent ingredient. It did not look as if the child's injuries were going to heal soon, and Severus sighed. Turning over to speak to Dumbledore about the child's conditions, he stopped immediately on see the gaping transfiguration mistress, "What now Minerva?" 

Minerva McGonagall just shook her head, pointing her finger to the object of her shock, who was just behind the strict potions master, "That's, that's..." 

It was seldom to see the strict woman this shocked, much less stuttering, and Dumbledore chuckled, "That's a royal ice phoenix. And yes Minerva, I do not know why she's here too." 

This had a tinkle of laughter filling their mind, and both Dumbledore and McGonagall jumped slightly whilst Severus looked at the phoenix with a raised eyebrow. The phoenix, who'd felt his gaze, returned it with a piercing stare of her own, her silvery-blue eyes looking as if they were searching for something in his soul. Seemingly satisfied with what she'd found, the same voice sounded once more in all of the professors' heads, "Yes light mage, I am an ice phoenix, and have been sent here by my master to guide young mistress in her magic. However, there are many aspects of her magic that I cannot teach. This is where I will need all of your help." 

"I am sure we are all honored to help train Harry, good lady." Dumbledore replied courteously, and the other two professors agreed readily, "But who is your master?" 

"She's Salazar's familiar. I've heard him talking about possessing one." Severus replied, and the phoenix nodded her head, "Yes. Salazar Slytherin is my master, and I am Ithil." 

Turning to stare at Minerva, Ithil continued, "I see that you're an animagi. Would it be possible for you to teach Sandrilene this form of art? She ought to have learnt it by twelve." 

Minerva's eyes widened slightly at the supposed age to study animagi, but replied in a calm tone, "I will, lady Ithil. Do you require a deadline?" 

At this, the phoenix laughed, a tingling melody that surfaced in all of their heads, "Take your time, transfiguration mistress. Light mage, I'd like you to help with her balancing of powers. She's both Lightbringer and Waterbearer, you see, and it's crucial for her to learn control." 

"She's a master of two?" Dumbledore gasped in shock. The others were surprised too, and Ithil chose to ignore the outburst, continuing, "Yes, light mage. She _isn't_ the child of the two most powerful masters in the entire history for nothing." Then, turning over to face Severus once more, her voice became sombre, "I hope you'll keep your promise to my master." 

This left Snape in much chagrin, and the man muttered under his breath, "I don't think Slytherin will let me off if I did that..." 

The words, though soft, had the group of two humans and one phoenix laughing wholeheartedly, and it was admidst the rich laughter that Harry woke up, bleary-eyed. Reaching over herself to find her glasses, she was startled to find that her vision wasn't blurred... which was why she blushed on staring at three concerned faces whose laughter had faded on noticing her awakening. 

"Good morning." The girl started shyly, looking down at her blanket. Inwardly, she tried remembering what had happened, but the surge of events had her shuddering slightly. The shiver did not escape the ex-Death Eater's eyes, and silently, Severus passed a vial of potions to the quiet girl, his eyes compelling her to drink up. This, Harry did without much thought, causing Dumbledore to smile at the child's complete trust in Snape, clearing his throat, the wizened wizard started in a gentle voice, "Harry, Poppy will be making you stay here for at least another two more weeks." 

"How did you know that I am...?" Harry burst out, surprised that someone was able to recognize him. McGonagall, who was nearest to the child, chuckled as she brushed aside the young girl's bangs, "The infamous lightning bolt is a dead give-away. Harry." 

This had Harry's face coloring a pale pink as the transfiguration mistress pass her Hogwarts letter to her, "Harry, you can always find me for help." Understanding eyes gazed at her through the frameless glasses, "My door is always open." 

"Thank you." Harry mumbled softly, then, on remembering something, stammered anxiously, "Professor, can you turn me back?" 

Her plea had all three adults glancing around in unease. It was possible to cast a charm on her, but it wasn't foolproof, nor was it entirely safe. Hence, as Harry fidgeted around, Severus finally started, "No, it isn't possible." 

His words crushed the hopes out of Harry, and the raven-haired girl's face crmpled. Pained for her, Minerva gathered the child in her arms, stroking her hair in a comforting manner as Harry broke down into tears. Beside them, Dumbledore and Snape looked on, feeling hapless as the girl choked out, "What's going to happen to me now?" 

The lost look on Harry's face did little to ease the guilt out of the potions master, and the man finally started, "Albus, Minerva, mind if I have a private word with her?" 

Despite it being a question, both professors knew that a 'no' would never be accepted, and quietly, they left the place. Before leaving, however, McGonagall gave the girl a reassuring hug, promising softly that she'd hex her colleague should he snipe at Harry. This, Severus accepted with a bemused glare, and when they were finally gone, the man started, "Po... mind if I call you Sandrilene?" 

Harry nodded her head dully, not speaking a word. This made the potions master slightly concerned, but his voice never betrayed his emotions as he started, "You do know that you're Slytherin and Gryffindor's child?" The girl jumped slightly at the direct statement, and nodded to the elder wizard in silence. Satisfied that she at least knew who she was, Severus continued, "I have a rough idea as to why you're here, Sandrilene." 

"What?" Harry gasped, emerald eyes meeting coal-black orbs. The potions master just looked on, a faint smile playing on his lips as he continued, "It seems as if the shadows have brought you here in the hopes of defeating Voldemort. In a way, they've succeeded." 

"The shadows?" 

The man sighed on realizing that the girl was pretty much oblivious to the entire matter of elementals. Ithil, who was still present, murmured a _later shadowmaster_ and Severus nodded gratefully. He was never one with enough patience to give an explanation for matters, and the subject of elementals would require an entire thesis to explain clearly. Returning to the subject at hand, Snape asked, "I suppose the name Harry Potter will no longer be valid for your current... form. What do you wish to be called now?" 

It took quite some time before the girl finally murmured, "Sandrilene Slytherin-Gryffindor." 

The idea of her no longer being Harry Potter, the person whom she had lived as for sixteen odd years weighed heavily in her heart, but Sandrilene shook the feeling off. She knew not what to think, much less what to decide upon, yet a voice had spokent that name in her head and she had just followed it, not bothering to argue that the name would raise several questions. 

Severus smiled slightly at her words. It was understandable why the child had chose the name, but still... there will be complications should she truly use it. Hence, the man pointed out idly, "The name is a little too eye-catching. Any other suggestions?" 

"Sandrilene Slytherin then." The girl mumbled softly, feeling the 'voice' look on approvingly. The name would still stand out in the crowd, but it was definitely less peculiar than two of the Founders' surnames woven together. Hence, the potions master accepted her answer and passed the remaining vials over to the puzzled child. 

"Drink these up. It'll help you heal faster." Severus replied gruffly as he ignored the confused look on the girl's face, "I'll get Poppy over." 

Making way for the exit, he was still pondering over his next moves with regards to Sandrilene's education when a insecure voice stopped him mid-way. 

"Sir, why are you so nice to me?" 

Pausing whilst contemplating about an answer, Severus frowned before turning over to walk back to the child. It amused him slightly when he saw the girl fidget under his gaze, but unknown to him, it was his presence - so oddly forboding yet soothing - that had Sandrilene shivering. Sitting by the raven-haired girl's bedside, Severus finally started, "I am not a kind man Sandrilene. Yes, two years of advanced potions with Granger and you, as well constandly teaching you the skills Dumbledore thought might be useful had been a torture to me. Merlin knows how much I've them... Well, I was, to put it lightly, _displeased_ after our first bout of lessons -" here, Sandrilene blushed at the thoughts of their disastrous occlumency lessons. It had continued on even despite much protestation from both sides, and thankfully, it had gone well even if there was much sniping between professor and student. 

"-But after that, when I was ordered to teach you DADA and be the private tutor to the original members of the DA, I've seen how you've gotten the group together, and even accept Millicent, Draco and Blaise into the group after they defected to the light. I might have looked aloof still. but I'm grateful; more than you can think." 

Ignoring Sandrilene's incredulous stare, Severus smiled slowly as he patted the girl's head in an awkward manner, "You were like James, yet not like him. James can lead, oh yes, he can. But no one can deny that he's an arrogant prick; taunting the Slytherins who were even half-decent. That idiot was blinded by his prejecdices, not you. You were civil to the Slytherins whom you knew might stand a chance to become allies. Indeed, if you hadn't talked Draco out of joining Voldemort in the middle of sixth year, he might not have known what to do. I'd been blinded by my hate towards James, but you showed me who you are through your actions. You've got bravery, but also cuning, ad Slytherin's most famous trait - survival." 

His speech - possibly the longest he had in years - done, the man stood up, brushing the imaginary lint from his robes, "Dumbledore had been counseling me since a long tme ago, and I've finally got over it. Now, I'm teaching you something once more, and I do hope that it'll be as we've had DADA tutoring. Don't let me down, Sandry." 

That finally done, Severus swept out of the room, robes billowing behind him as Sandrilene stared at the exiting figure with shock. She'd never expected Snape - of all people - to tell her all these... Seldom would the potions master explain things without sarcasm held in his words, and this incident is possibly as rare an occassion as the next rise of a Dark Lord. For Sandrilene, it was as if she could see light once again after a lengthy period of darkness. 

_Does that mean that Snape no longer hates me?_ A small spark of hope lit in the girl's heart as she settled back in the fluffy pillows. With the sleeping potion starting to take its effect, Sandrilene smiled sleepily, the faint lullaby that was present in the depths of her mind brought her to a dreamless sleep. 

Ithil just smiled as she ended her song, murmuring to Hedwig, _"Sandrilene's found peace." _

"Yes, milady." 

~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~"~ 

**End of Chapter 5**

Phew, it's finally out! *embarassed* I'm so sorry about the delay! Well, a little bit on Severus and Harry for all those of you who like the pairing, even if it's not slash >.three times. *shudders at the memories* All my fic information had been lost, and crying wasn't enough! 

Alright, sad thoughts aside, here's some replies for the reviews! 

**Sabriel-chan** ~ Thankie! Hope you like this chapter! 

**Furies** ~ Hehe, I too, am glad that I've actually decided to continue it. Such plots had been intriguing to me for a lo-ong time! 

**Petunia** ~ Yeppers, they _are_ coming, it's just that the times are irregular... ^_^ 

**Fyre** ~ Yeah, that BIG plot hole is something I've realized only after you've told me about it. I'm still finding a way to solve it... So any ideas? My mind seems to be in a blank, and the only statement in my defence is that the girl Harry took the professors' gaze away from Harry's disappearance. And you'll find out the connection between Draco and Rowena very soon... In the next chapter I believe :) Hope you can wait till then. As for Lupin's reaction? I'm still pondering over that... so any ideas are always welcome! 

**athenakitty** ~ The Dursleys will get their share of the pie sooner or later. As for Godric and Salazar's coming over... I'd say soon, but not so soon :) 

**Zaeria** ~ Yes, Ithil and Hedwig remembered about Harry's diary :þ How can they not? *lol* Harry will kill them if they didn't... nah, just joking. Heheh! 

**Maxennce** ~ *grins* Okie doke, the chapter's out! ****

Nora Lena Potter Thank you! *ego swells up before getting burst by an intruder* Hey, stop it Salar! *lol* 

**loki** ~ I'll continue this, but I cannot really promise a regular update >_**MistWalker** ~ *beams* I've read about stories with Harry being the reincarnation of Salar, and most of them are very good! I'm glad that you like this too, it was something that just popped up in my mind one day when I was reading about Harry being a girl in some fanfic I've read off ff.net :) 

**selua** ~ Ooh! Someone recommended this to you? *grins* Hope you still like it! 

**chibi** ~ Aww, this isn't that bad a cliffhanger... In fact, I've left even worse ones in my other fics! *lol* 

**asa-chan** ~ Heheh, the slash won't be that obvious - I don't really know how to write them ^_^! - so hope you won't mind! 

**MarsMoonStar** ~ *grins* You remind me of a professor I've had up at VH, he always says, 'rightio'. Glad you like the story! 

**merryfurry** ~ I'm still wracking my brains on how to continue on the elemental mages too. Let's hope I'll do it to above your standards! 

**samson** ~ Thank you! Here's more, and though it might not be original, I still hope you'll like it! 

**Ann** ~ Aww, *pats Ann's shoulder* there there, I've gotten the newest chapter out! 

**biblios** ~ Don't worry, I haven't stopped it... at least, not yet! Harry will be going back as a girl, and Voldie's already dead, so we don't have to worry about his existance! 

**Silv3r4ng3l** ~ Yep, I'm updating even as I'm typing this. Don't worry, I have the basic outlines for the next three chapters out, but it'll take some time before I'll write them out, as I have... erm, *counts finger* five or six fics to update, and one of them has been left hanging for practically half a year! 

**godric 4 sal** ~ Hehe, updated! Hope you're still alive! *lol* 

**marleen** ~ Glad you like it, and here's the newest chapter, hot from the oven... er... floppy disc! 

**Shea Loner***blink blink* *whistle* Woah. Thank you. *huggles* (love the simple words, made a huge impact :) 

**insanechildfanfic** ~ Thank you! Hope this will be up to your standard of 'great' >.**Princess Hermion** ~ True, there might be a suspicion, but I suppose Dumbledore's words had muddled him a bit. After all, without a proper explanation, one will probably be insane to think that a child who's born thousands of years ago is in their era ne? 

**texasjeanette** ~ *apologetic* I'm sorry for updating so late. But a lot of things cropped up... 

**ficfan** ~ Aww, don't kneel. It's out now! 

**Night-Rose14** ~ Their entry into the future will be quite a few chapters later. I'll be focusing on Sandry's education first! Hope you won't mind! 

Alrighto! That's all for the reviews. If you have any questions, do ask eh? I'll be more than happy to reply. Also, I've sorta e-mailed my updating this story those who'd written their emails down in the reviews sector, so if you want me to update you guys about when the story chapts are out, do leave your addy there ne? *huggles everyone who've read this story* 

Toodles, 

**Ephirel**


	7. Chapter 6

**In defeating him, I've met my Fall **

**Chapter 6  
**

**********

* * *

**She was engulfed in a warm embrace.

Vaguely, Sandrilene wondered why she hadn't shied away from the touch like she usually did – her senses all but screamed for her to trust whomever it was that was holding her, though there was confusion as to why the sandalwood and bergamot scent emanating from the man made her heart twinge in nostalgia. For minutes, she was held in that position as the man holding her murmured something over and over again in a language that sounded alien yet familiar at the same time…

"Salazar, stop your incessant Parseltongue babbling. She's here, and you're not helping."

This successfully stopped the rambling of the man who was holding Sandrilene, and when she was finally extricated from the embrace, emerald eyes clashed with the identical ones of the man who held her as though she were the most precious jewel in the world. The calm façade seemed to betray nothing, yet the shaky hands that still held her arms protectively and the torrent of emotions that flooded those emerald eyes told otherwise.

"Fa – father?" Sandrilene whispered in shock. There was no doubt that the man was Salazar Slytherin, for he looked exactly like the dark-haired man in her dreams. Still, the question was…

"Where am I?"

Behind Salazar, quiet laughter could be heard as a golden-haired man entered into Sandrilene's line of vision. Taller than Salazar by almost a head, the girl stared at the other mage in awe, inwardly reminding herself that Godric Gryffindor was not a man to be trifled with… all the while forgetting that he too, was her father. Her expression had Godric somewhat amused, and the man gathered his daughter in a tight hug, "Sandry, we're in the void of dreams."

"Void of dreams?" Sandrilene echoed in confusion. Her father nodded before releasing her from the bone-crushing hug, and guided her to look around. Only then did she realize that she was now in an unfamiliar chamber that looked like a common room, yet not truly like one. Instead of having many couches, there were only two, one by the fireplace, and another by a row of bookshelves. Stools and chairs littered the room – two by the chess table, and another smatter by a huge round table where a multitude of scrolls was lying carelessly on it. Mostly lined with shelves containing odd gadgets and potion vials, the room was a cozy one despite its huge expanse.

Allowing herself to be led by her black-haired father to the fireplace, Sandrilene obediently sat down on the couch as Godric explained, "Not much is known about the void… Only that the masters of the elements can converse with their counterparts of other generations face-to-face without any trouble. Since you are both a Lightbringer and Waterbearer, and Salar and I are life-bound, we were able to enter into your dreams at the same time. This had Rowena and Helga a little disappointed though…"

"Lightbringer? Waterbearer?" Sandrilene asked in confusion as the man sat down beside her, effectively placing her between him and Salazar, all the while frowning at the bruises that colored her pale arms.

"A Lightbringer is the master of the light elementals, a Waterbearer – the master of water elementals." Salazar answered absently, his attention too, turned towards her bare arms and calves. Then, remembering how Rowena had breezed through their questions on Sandrilene's health with averted eyes, Salazar realized the severity of the harm that had been inflicted on his only daughter and paled.

Pained, the man took up Sandrilene's right hand and whispered in barely controlled fury, "How dare they do this to you!"

"I'm going to kill them." Godric gritted out, amber-gold eyes burned with a ferocity that had Sandrilene wincing. She knew that her father was a powerful mage – hell, both of her fathers were formidable men – and the idea of being at the end of his wrath wasn't a thing to laugh at. Hesitantly placing her hand on her golden-haired father's arm, Sandrilene started out, "Please, fa – papa, don't…"

This effectively calmed the man down, albeit short-termed, and Sandrilene quickly withdrew her hand, suddenly feeling timid as she played with the hem of her hospital blouse. Her parents turned to her in question, knowing that she hadn't finished her sentence, causing Sandrilene to look down guiltily, "It wasn't as if I didn't deserve it."

Ignoring the concerned stares that both Salazar and Godric gave her, she continued doggedly, "The physical pain… it dulled my senses somewhat… it helped me temporarily to forget losing Si – " here, she had to swallow the sudden onslaught of grief before continuing, " – Sirius and Ron and Cedric, and all the others, be it for a short time."

Choking back a sob, she whispered brokenly, "At least it helped me live."

The silence that followed was deafening as both parents glanced at one another over Sandrilene's head in upset. They had known a long time ago that their child had had a hard life in the era that she was transported into, but neither had wanted their Sandrilene to suffer so, and especially not to a point where she took abuse so readily to numb the guilt and pain she was so deeply entrenched in.

Sighing, Salazar gathered his daughter into his arms, brooking no protest from the girl as he rubbed soothing circles on her back.

"Sandry, we've been through this before, it was not your fault that people are killed." Salazar spoke gently, wiping the tears away from the girl's eyes. Tears, that she had not even realize had fallen. A hand patted her head, and Godric's voice sounded from above her, "Salar speaks the truth. Voldemort was a crazed man. He would kill anyone that defied him."

"But it had been because of me that Sirius was killed!"

"Then what would Sirius and your friends have said if they found out about the way you dealt with their death?" Salazar countered, effectively silencing his girl from any other protestation. The tears still hadn't stopped, and the dark-haired wizard sighed, "Sandry, if Sirius was anything like the one I've seen in your mind, he would most probably bring you by the rear and spank you for being so inconsiderate of yourself. He would not be pleased to see you wallowing in self-guilt, and especially not when he's most probably enjoying the company of James and Lily Potter in the other realm."

"Do you think so?" Sandrilene asked timidly on looking at her father's face. The uncertainty was still there, but it was fading… if only slightly. Smiling reassuringly, Salazar continued, "Child, believe what you may, but remember the times you had with them. Remember their laughter, their actions, their wit. Do you think they would have wanted you to suffer in grief?"

At this, Sandrilene fell silent once more, this time, she took to recounting the times she had spent with Sirius and Ron, the long chats through the nights, the adventures they had embarked on, and gave a ghost of a smile. Seeing the smile, both Godric and Salazar sighed in relief.

At least their child was thinking concretely again.

"Think about it in your spare time," Godric murmured quietly, "Mourning is inevitable, that I cannot deny it. However, it is the part of moving on that'll be the difficult one..." Giving his child a crooked smile, he joked, "Still, you _are _a Gryffindor after all, so I have no doubt that you'll possess enough courage to do that in time to come."

"As long as the idiocy part doesn't kick in, I suppose that's all right." Salazar sniffed, earning him a bite on the arm by his bonded. Wincing, Salazar kicked the man back at the shins, leaving a stunned Sandrilene to look on whilst the two lovers wrestled for dominance right in front of her.

"Men…" A wry comment sounded from a portrait behind Sandrilene, causing her to jump. Whirling around, she glanced at her still fighting fathers and wandered over to the portrait where a black-haired lady was having tea with a golden-haired one.

"Um… Hello." Sandrilene said uncertainly as the two women smiled at her. The black-haired woman tutted at the too-polite greeting and sighed, "Sandry, please do away with the politeness. It is rather depressing to have my only niece seem so distant to me, isn't it Helga?"

"Indeed." The golden-haired lady, Helga Hufflepuff, replied in amusement. Then, placing her teacup down, she smiled dotingly on Sandrilene and waved her hand, "don't mind those two. It seems to be their way of… ah, relieving tension."

Here, Rowena Ravenclaw bit back a snicker and turned straight-faced to her niece, "I suppose you'll not start on your training now."

"Training?" Sandrilene asked, confused.

"Yes. Your magic has matured, and not many have the power you possess. It is only befitting that your parents, as well as us, teach you how to control your magic… Though given the circumstances, only Godric and my brother can teach you." Rowena replied kindly whilst Helga continued on, "Sandrilene, I'm still researching on how to get all four of us to meet you in dreams. It'll take some time, but I'm getting on to it. Meanwhile, I suppose I can only content myself on knowing that you're safe once more."

The genuine concern in both ladies' voice warmed Sandrilene's heart, but before she could utter any word of thanks, Helga met her eyes and shook her head, "No gratitude is needed. We are family, after all."

"I agree with Helga, Sandry. You've had a long night, now get to sleep…"

* * *

_  
Now get to sleep…_

Suddenly jumping up, all Sandrilene saw was darkness before her. However, she did not even have to light up her wand to recognize where she was. The bed underneath her was exactly the same as before she had entered into the void, and the clean, antiseptic odor that was the exclusive eu de hospital wing was still lingering faintly despite the winds that blew in from the opened windows.

"I'm back…" The black-haired girl sighed as she made for bed, though something, or more specifically, the gaze of someone stopped her. Glancing around, emerald eyes met curious, quicksilver ones that seemed to glow in the darkness, causing her to scream.

"Shh!" The person hissed in annoyance whilst muffling Sandrilene's scream with his hand, "Madam Pomfrey will kill me!" The voice, with its melodious tenor, had Sandry pulling back the pale hand that was covering her mouth, "Draco?"

The muttering of 'lumos' could then be heard as the eyes of one Draco Malfoy widened imperceptibly at the black-haired girl, "What did you do to yourself Harry? Had a sex change?"

Shaking her head, Sandrilene looked at the boy in confusion. _Why is he still in Hogwarts? How did he… _

"How did you know that I am Harry?" Sandrilene voiced out in uncertainty. Even her voice had changed, not to mention her looks, and it wasn't really possible for the blond-haired Slytherin to have seen her scar – for that was covered by her bangs… Hence the question. Draco, however, just laughed and pointed to the air surrounding the girl, "You are still colored with the waters, and the white of light. Auras do not change, Harry."

"You can see auras?"

The incredulity in her voice had Draco snickering, "I am not the Windmaker of our generation for nothing."

"Windmaker?"

"Now you're starting to act like a parrot…" The boy muttered under his breath. Still, before Sandry could utter a protest, Draco continued, "You _do _know that you are an elemental mage too, don't you?" At her nod, the boy continued, "There are six masters, the Lightbringer, Shadowmaster, Waterbearer, Windmaker, Firetamer and Earthwielder, for light, shadow, water, wind, fire and earth respectively. Each controls the elements with the ease of one's breath, though that is only after one's fully trained…

"My abilities awoke earlier, on my sixteenth birthday instead, and I had been seeing auras since six months ago. I was less than half-trained when the last war started though, hence my inability to help much. It had been my abilities that kept me away from death…"

Sandrilene awkwardly patted her friend's shoulder when he trailed off, knowing that he was reliving the events of the last battle. Whereas Sandrilene had only killed Voldemort, Draco had killed many in the last battle, of which had included one Lucius Malfoy – though she was only informed of this post-battle. The aftermath had been rather bad too. Draco had been placed on life-support for almost a week due to the amount of hexes the Death Eaters had thrown on him, not to mention the injuries and broken bones he sustained throughout the siege.

Heck, it had been deemed a miracle that he hadn't gone crazy given the length of Cruciatus he had suffered under his father's hands.

Several minutes passed as Draco took hold of his emotions once more, and when that was done, he gave his friend – though he was still getting used to the idea of Harry being a female – a weak smile, asking, "So why are you here? And did anyone tell you that you look like…"

"… Salazar Slytherin?"

"No. Rowena Ravenclaw. Your hair, to be exact."

"To be expected, she's my aunt."

"What!" This time, it was Draco's turn to yell. He had the decency to blush, however, when Sandrilene placed a finger on her lip to signal him to be silent. In a soft voice, she began explaining how she had just found out in less than forty-eight hours that she was actually the child of two of the Founders, and niece to the other two.

"I do not think that those bruises were by Lord Slytherin or Gryffindor's hands." Draco finally spoke out shrewdly when Sandry had finished her explanations, and the latter reluctantly shook her head.

"No. Vernon did that." The girl mumbled softly, which incited a sudden gale of wind to sweep through the entire room. Shivering, Sandry looked up at Draco's eyes and flinched at the fury that colored those glazed, silver eyes. Hurriedly, she shook her friend out of his reverie, thereby disrupting the winds that had sung along with Draco's anger.

"You know, it is nice to have a strong wind now and then," Sandrilene started wryly, "but please don't do it at night of all times."

"You're one to talk! Why in all of Merlin's name did you let them do this to you? You're more than capable to make them back off!" The ranting continued for quite a long time, and Sandrilene tuned out immediately, knowing that there was no true way of stopping the Malfoy heir when he was off on his raving spree.

Little did she know that she fell asleep half-way through his tirade, and Draco could only sigh in exasperation before pulling the coverlet over her and slipping back into his own bed.

* * *

She awoke to a sweet odor that seemed to fill the room… or at least, the area where she was in. 

Then, something started nudging her arm, though Sandrilene tiredly threw it off. Unfortunately, it did not seem to relent in its prodding, and the girl rubbed bleary eyes before they focused on the bemused visage before her.

"Draconis Alexander Malfoy," the girl gritted out hoarsely, "Bugger. Off"

"Oh but I can't." Draco responded in amusement, gesturing to the potions that were on the side-table, "Madam Pomfrey insisted that I get you to wake up for feeding."

"Fe-feeding?" Sandrilene grimaced, now fully awake. Glancing at the sheer multitude of potions, she groaned, "Merlin. There's almost a dozen of them there!"

"Just be thankful that there's only eleven of them. Mine had been worse." The Slytherin boy retorted as he tossed a bouquet of flowers towards Sandrilene. Deftly catching the bouquet, the latter stared at it in surprise and brought startled eyes towards the blond-haired boy. For once, Draco looked uneasy, shuffling from feet to feet, and Sandrilene raised out suspiciously, "Erm, Draco, I do hope this isn't a prank."

"A-a prank?" This time, it was Draco's turn to splutter, and Sandrilene laughed at the look of indignation now apparent on the blonde's face. Said boy continued glaring at her, muttering under his breath, "I thought all girls like flowers… Hell, I even got you lilies and bluebottles!"

"Draco, I was still a boy yesterday… Do you think my preferences change immediately?" Sandrilene pointed out sardonically, leaving a hurumphing boy who then threw another thing towards her. Again, Sandrilene caught the object, though it was heavier than she expected. Glancing at the object, she returned her gaze towards Draco, an eyebrow arched in question, "Why a book?"

"Rowena mentioned sometime back that should another master awaken, this would help him or her immensely." Draco shrugged, gesturing to the History of Elemental Magi with his hand, "I can help you with whatever's written in the book, especially those rituals, but I suppose Sev would be a better option."

"Sev?" The word that rolled off her tongue was foreign, yet endearing at the same time, and Sandrilene found that she liked it very much. Somebody, however, seemed to think otherwise, "Draco, how many times do I have to ask you to. Stop. Calling. Me. That?"

Both Draco and Sandrilene jumped at those words, but the former recovered quickly and grinned at the brooding man that was standing by the entrance of the wing, "Uncle Sev!"

"Now what did I tell you about nicknames?" Severus asked silkily as he moved towards the two students, inwardly frowning on noticing the vials of potions. _Wasn't she supposed to be taking those…? _He thought absently as the medi-witch beside him clucked at the duo, where one had the decency to look guilty.

"Mr. Malfoy, I thought I asked you to stay in your bed?" Madam Pomfrey tutted, leaving a thoroughly confused Sandrilene. Dubious of what had happened earlier, she turned to glance at the blonde that had suddenly taken an interest in the sky outside and questioned the medi-witch, "But Draco said you asked him to wake me up to take those potions!"

"What!" Madam Pomfrey screeched - literally, "Why I never!" Turning towards Draco, the woman turned menacing, leaving a somewhat pale Draco Malfoy who seemed to be searching for a way to run away. Noticing his expression, Severus grasped Draco firmly on the shoulders despite the pleading look on his godson's eyes and murmured, "Another prank of yours Draco? I do remember feeling a mild disturbance in the winds earlier on…"_Which meant you've just meddled with your element._

Those words were unspoken, but being masters of their elements, Sandrilene and Draco heard the mindspeech, causing Draco to gulp. The potions master knew him just too well… Not surprising, given how he had been the boy's mentor since even _before_ he entered Hogwarts, and when Draco had came into his powers, the dark-haired man had become an even more important figure in his life – Severus was the father he would've killed to have.

"I just wanted see Sandry's reaction when I gave her the flowers…" Draco answered reluctantly after realizing that the potions master's glare would not relent unless he gave an answer. And by answer, it meant a _true_ answer, for he had no doubt that Severus would use the shadows to verify if it were false. His words had the remaining occupants of the room surprised, and Sandrilene touched the bouquet tentatively, "You got this specially for me?"

There was a sulky nod at the back of Sandrilene's mind, leaving the girl part amused part contented. To say that she wasn't touched by the gesture would be lying, for Draco had quietly shown her fleeting images of how he had created the flowers with the winds through their minds… and Sandrilene knew that it wasn't easy given the injuries he had recovered only recently. Whilst they were deep in mindspeech, Severus just stared at the duo with unreadable eyes, unconsciously frowning at the scene before him.

All of a sudden, the flowers that were held in Sandrilene's arms became vaguely annoying in his eyes, and he so badly wanted to disrupt the mindspeech they were engaged in like a jealous lover. _A jealous lover? Now where had that come from?_ Severus thought in irritation as he brushed those thoughts away from his line of thinking. Quickly controlling himself, he started, "Draco, the Headmaster will be coming over later in the afternoon to continue your lessons. Meanwhile, could you kindly vacate this place while I cover wandless magic with Ms Slytherin?"

"Of course, uncle." Draco agreed readily and jumped off the chair he had been sitting and waved goodbye at Sandrilene and Severus. Once he was up and about, Madam Pomfrey immediately took him by the shoulder to another chamber for another round of healing, all the while fussing over how he ought not perform elemental magic so soon after sedation and whatnots. Draco just rolled his eyes, though he grinned at the idea of soaking in the healing pools once more.

He was walking mid-way towards the chamber where the healing pools were situated when the winds carried a soft 'thank you' from Sandrilene, and he just shook his head and smiled.

… So much for cheering up his little brother… no, sister up.

As Sandrilene carefully placed the bouquet of flowers onto the side-table, Severus looked on patiently – or with what little patience he had – until she was ready. Eyeing the tome that was already on her bed, a faint smile hovered on his face before fading back into the mask, "I see Draco has passed you this back. It will do you well to read it thoroughly Ms Slytherin. But for now, we'll be going through this book instead."

He passed another tome to the girl, this time on wandless magic, but Sandrilene just stared at the book, not accepting it or browsing through it. Frowning, Severus stared at the girl, wondering what had transpired to bring about such silence until the girl looked up at him, "You called me Sandry last night."

"I beg your pardon?" The black-haired mage raised an eyebrow at the words. Those emerald eyes that were holding his own coal ones seemed accusing, whilst the same dulcet voice spoke once more, "You called me Ms Slytherin just now. What happened to Sandry?"

"Well Ms Slytherin, given how I'm to teach you again, it would be better to call you Ms Slytherin instead of Sandrilene." – _that way, my mind won't be led astray._ Once again, he growled at his own thoughts and chucked them back into the furthest recesses of his mind, only to groan when Sandrilene insisted, "Sandry."

"Ms Slytherin, I insist –"

"Please, call me Sandry?"

The plea in those emerald green orbs, doubled with that persuading voice, had Severus softening immediately. Reluctantly, he started, "Sandrilene – "

"Sandry."

"Sandrilene," The man warned, "you are trying my patience." This successfully shut the girl up, but those puppy eyes continued staring at him as if trying to wear into his soul… Hence, despite trying to maintain his stand, Severus gave up minutes later.

"All right _Sandry_. Now, wandless magic."

The class commenced immediately, and should anyone see the black-haired girl, they would wonder what had happened to have caused the expression she had on her face – she looked like a cat who'd gotten its paws on a pitcher of milk.

Needless to say, Severus Snape was more than disgruntled by that…

* * *

**End of Chapter 6**

Ta da! Phew… After such a long hiatus, this chapter is finally out! ducks all the flying artillery and glares I do apologize if the chapter doesn't meet to the usual expectations, given how I've almost (the term is almost, not totally) given up on the plot. Rest assured, I've written the entire idea down on black and white instead of remembering it in my mind.

The reviews had helped me strive to get this chapter out, so I thank all of you who have reviewed, as well as those who've read this story and thought it good enough ) Like you guys, I too, am also glad to have this chapter out – it's like a huge burden off my shoulders… Next, I'll just have to tackle awakening… :shudders: Ah well, hope you guys liked it!


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